The Saint Seiya Collection
by The Love Bug
Summary: A collection of Saint Seiya oneshots, featuring childhoods, romances, alternative occupations, utter crack and far too much focus on the Gold Saints. -Will contain yaoi/het/yuri!-First up, Scorpio Milo-as if he doesn't get enough attention!
1. Reach For The Stars, Milo!

Reach For the Stars, Milo!

**A/N: Okay, Shion's body is no longer in plain view...let's just say that Saga hid it a little better, okay? Otherwise this entire thing is even more illogical than it already is.**

**----------------**

Milo was five years old when he first climbed Star Hill.

It was a hard climb-his hands were bleeding and he was sweating like a pig, because on a hot summer's day the last thing most people want to do is strenuous exercise, but Milo had been planning this for _weeks._

His was a simple plan: it's nearly the middle of summer, wait until everyone has gone to the beach and then race back to Sanctuary and see just what's so special about Star Hill. And his plan was so secret that he hadn't even told Camus (who in his heart of hearts he knew would have sighed, shook his head and helped him climb the thing, but Milo wanted to do this by himself.)

So when all the other Gold Saints and future Gold Saints and various other chromatic warriors were splashing away down on the beach (under the eye of a harassed-looking Saga) Milo had hid Camus' bucket and spade to distract him, put a crab down Aphrodite's shorts to distract everyone else and then raced back to Sanctuary as far as his saintly little legs would carry him.

There he had stripped out of his swimming trunks, put on a pair of good sturdy boots and began the arduous climb up Star Hill. At first it was easy-a worn little path had been made by other apprentices who had tried-and failed-to get to the top. But Milo knew he was better than them. Where they failed, the future Gold Saint of Scorpio would succeed!

Soon enough, the path wore out and the ancient rocks began to crumble as he clutched at them. The weeds and shrubs he grasped at were little better-and once or twice he lost his footing entirely and fell tumbling back to the path. But he didn't give up. What would be the point in that? And so Milo climbed up and up and up, until his knees were scraped and his hands were bleeding and full of gravel and there were no more shrubs to cling on to. He climbed as the air grew thinner and the wind became colder, and his cheeks became chapped and red.

_The Pope is an old man-how does he do this?_

Up he climbed and just as the sun had began to sink into the horizon Milo pulled himself up onto the very top of the summit of Star Hill, using the last ounce of his strength and determination in his little body. And for the first time he sat quietly and appreciated a sunset, because he was too tired to do anything else. He saw the sun burning like a tiger's eye in the sky, and streaks of pink tearing across the clouds-and in the very distance he saw a little stream of people, all of them glowing faintly, making their way back to Sanctuary from the beach.

He supposed they'd looked for him, and he knew Saga would get blamed for his absence (him being the oldest Gold Saint and all) but he didn't really care. This was a little more important than _papal promotions _or_ safety in numbers. _

Eventually, the sun set, the glowing children returned to their temples and barracks and the stars finally, finally came out! Down on the boring ground Milo had heard much about them-he knew about Ganymede the water-carrier and Bacchus the apparent goat-fish, as well as the centaur Chiron and the despairing Astraea. Most of all he knew about the bright red star Antares and the little scorpion that defeated the mighty Orion. Milo was not a boaster, but he was proud of his constellation.

Down on the ground, the stars and their stories (even when explained by Pope Shion) seemed very far away-even further away than their Goddess Athena. And how can something so far away guide your destiny? Milo wanted to believe...he just didn't quite manage.

So he went to the place closest to the stars-Star Hill, and all he wanted was a sense of kinship with the sign of his future armour-but as the stars blinked into vision he felt nothing. Up above him Aquila, Ophiuchus, Libra and Hydra twinkled happily, unaware that they were being dissed by a five-year-old, and Virgo seemed as far away and as cold as Shaka was.

Big blue eyes widened as Milo took in the closest view he had ever had of Scorpio, one of the brightest constellations in the night sky. Suddenly the stars were big and shiny and _there_...but he couldn't understand them. If they were trying to tell him something with their twinkling, he figured he was too young to understand what it was. It really _w_as a job for the Pope, trying to decipher some comprehensible message from the pretty shiny things in the sky.

The first time Milo climbed Star Hill, he wasn't discouraged by the stars and he managed to sneak back into Scorpio Temple without anyone noticing he had gone. Camus gave him hell in the morning, but hell, he had climbed Star Hill!

However, the second time Milo climbed Star Hill he was seven years old and had just won the Gold Cloth of Scorpio. His master wasn't even cold in the ground and Milo was already up and racing around, desperate to see if now that he was a Gold Saint (in the service of Athena for evermore!) the stars would let him understand them.

The climb was easier-this time, he was stronger and there was no duplicity involving a bucket and spade this time either. But once again, Gold Saint Scorpio Milo reached the summit of Star Hill, sat in a place only Popes had sat, and the stars made him feel like a little child.

Which, in fact, he was.

"I thought I'd find you here, Scorpio Milo."

The elderly voice of Pope Shion did well to remind Milo of this fact, and he spun around like a kid with his hand in a holy cookie jar.

"Aargh! Pope Shion! I could've _sworn_ it would've taken you all evening to deal with the frogs in your bathroom!"

The old Pope grinned. "Thought that was you, too. And I let Saga clean them up; I'm too old to be running about catching amphibians!"

Milo grimaced, and decided to stay out of Saga's way for at least a month. Pope Shion grinned again and picked up his papal robes, settling down onto the ground besides Milo.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Who is, sir?" Milo had never been quite this close to the Pope before, and unsurprisingly he smelt of Mu and old people. Once again, Pope Shion grinned and pointed to the sky.

"Your constellation, Scorpio Milo. Your destiny."

And then Milo didn't quite know what to say, because he had looked at Scorpio many times that night, and each time all he got was 'big balls of gases.'

So he said the first thing that he thought sounded suitably holy.

"Does that mean I have a beautiful destiny or a destiny with a beautiful woman?"

Pope Shion chuckled, his dots crinkling into the furrows of his forehead. "I can't tell you that, Scorpio Milo-your destiny can only truly be read by you! All I can do is provide a generalized picture."

....Great. How was Milo supposed to know his destiny if the stupid stars wouldn't even let him know what it was in the first place? He spent the rest of the night cold and sulky, refusing even to acknowledge the fact that it was a miracle that Pope Shion hadn't hurled him off Star Hill for defacing sacred ground. Once again, Star Hill had been a failure.

The third time Milo went up Star Hill, he brought Camus (by now _Aquarius Camus, _which the nine-year-old said often and with pride) along for the ride.

Milo scrambled up the mountain like a purple-haired monkey and Camus, distinctly out of his comfort zone and not too happy about breaking The Rules, scowled along behind him. Milo hoped he'd be cheerful enough to make a giant ice slide on the way back down...

They reached the top in prepubescent-boy style, with some minor cursing, a lot of tripping and plenty of dark looks from Camus. And as the stars appeared high in the autumn sky, Milo was pleased that he'd decided to bring a friend to share in his loathing of the incomprehensibility of the twinklies.

But a quick glance at Camus showed that the green-haired boy's face actually bore a smile, and it was one of-oh dear-_wonder, comprehension and awe._ All directed at the constellation of Aquarius.

Stupid stars. Milo supposed Camus could read his entire life's story in those nasty shiny things, and that it was telling him wonderful, happy things about a life full of love and ice and devotion to Athena. A look at Camus' faintly beaming face confirmed this.

"So? What do they tell you?" He figured it was best to get the smugness over and done with, but Camus looked a little confused for a moment.

"Tell? My stars are telling me nothing, Milo-it's more of a feeling. A really good feeling. Well, it's sort of like taking medicine-the feeling feels bad at first and then it gets wonderful, like I've done something really worthwhile with my life..."

Stupid Camus. Stupid stars. Milo supposed that down on the ground Shura and Aphrodite were doing exactly the same as Camus, getting warm fuzzy feelings from their destinies, whereas he, Milo, would once again be left sulking in the dark.

The fourth time Milo climbed Star Hill, he'd given up on wanting to know his destiny because, quite frankly, he was happy trying to muddle things up. He'd resigned himself to the fact that he was never going to be a master stargazer (ever) and after Aiolos' betrayal soon after the Star Hill expedition with Camus; Milo had decided that it was stupid to believe that his destiny was set in stone, not when it was intertwined with so many others.

He hadn't even planned the trip-in fact, the fourteen-year-old had just felt like a walk and soon enough he was scrambling up the side of a mountain. The path seemed much more defined this time-it was clear he and Camus hadn't been the only Saints trekking up the holy hill.

Grabbing a clump of weed and hoisting himself up onto the summit, Milo supposed he'd find Deathmask's graffiti or a lonely-looking Shura. Instead (and much to his surprise) he found...

"Shaka? Are you breaking _rules?_"

The Virgo saint looked haughty. "Hardly. The Pope just left, we've been here for hours."

Milo smirked slightly."Hours, eh? And you were stargazing all that time? Sounds to me like you've released your inner blonde..."

Shaka had a look of confusion and vague distaste on his pretty face. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean. An inner _what?_"

"An inner blonde. We all have them-I have one, Camus has one, Aphrodite has his in plain view-you have lots of inner blonde because you _are_ blonde, but you squash it down tight and try not to let your blonde instincts take over when in the presence of others."

"I am _positive_ I don't know what you mean." If Shaka had his eyes open, Milo knew he would be glaring. But Shaka never conveyed that much emotion, and as such Milo was left with no other option than to sit down far too close to him and ask him what he saw in the stars.

Shaka looked at him with his eyelids for a minute before deciding Milo actually wanted an answer and that it wasn't another crude pun.

"Well...I don't see anything. But I feel a great many things. The stars have cosmoses, much bigger than ours, and I can feel those. Currently, they're unhappy about something, I don't know what-Virgo is particularly out of sorts, she's the sign of justice and she's telling me that justice has not been served."

Milo frowned. Aiolos was dead, wasn't he? Then a question struck him.

"Hey, do you follow the stars or Buddha? Or do you try for a nice even mix of both, because that must be seriously confusing..."

Shaka frowned. "The stars give us our destiny, Buddha shows me how to live my day-to-day life-with respect to all living things, Milo, and that includes you-so I will give you three seconds to get off my cloak before I relieve you of your five senses!"

Milo got off the cloak sharpish. "Oops, sorry, thought it was available! Anyway, are you saying that the stars don't guide us, they just complain to us when stuff is wrong?"

"Maybe. I'm not the Pope; I can't read the stars fluently yet. All I know is what Virgo tells me and what Buddha tells me, and they tell me that we are as small as the unnamed stars in the sky. What we do is all part of a much larger picture, and this picture will carry on until the end of time. "

"Hmm...What would you say to someone who didn't get these warm fuzzy feelings from his constellation? Would you lend him your cloak?"

"No. And the feelings aren't warm and fuzzy. I would say...that it didn't matter much, because even if he doesn't know his destiny, Scorpio does."

"Uwaah! I never said it was _me! _I'm asking for Camus!

"Of course you are."

Milo and Shaka bickered long into the night (and in the end, Milo did get the cloak).

Afterwards, Milo felt that his most successful trip to Star Hill had been his first and that all subsequent ones confirmed what he already knew-that he couldn't understand his own star sign-but in the end, he decided not to ponder over it. He was young, powerful and devilishly handsome (if he said so himself) and surely at twenty there was more to life than stars?

And he held this view until, after five long years of fighting and so many Saints dead and resurrected and then dead again and resurrected again, Athena herself took him by the hand and led him to a small staircase in the side of Star Hill and led him up to the summit.

_(He wished he'd known about that when he was five years old!) _

There Athena continued to hold his hand until he confessed that it might make Camus jealous, and she smiled and let go. She could feel his cosmos regardless.

Athena smiled at Milo, and once again he forgot that she was a young girl and not an ageless beauty of a goddess. "Milo, you've always wanted to see your destiny, haven't you?"

She smiled at him like a kindly mother and a little sister and a wise teacher all at once. And Milo was on the verge of reaching out and yelling 'yes, yes, show me my stars!'...until he realised something. He, Gold Saint Milo of Scorpio had defeated Titans, trounced a false Pope, been to hell and back, helped defeat Hades and even helped overcome Zeus. What more could his destiny possibly have in store for him?

So he simply smiled. "No thanks Athena, I don't need it. I can feel enough cosmoses in Sanctuary already!"

She simply smiled back. "Tough, Scorpio wants to talk to you."

And with that (and a rather large amount of Athena's divine cosmos), the barrier that had been separating Milo and his stars was burst open, and a flood of feelings rushed in.

Milo shrieked and clutched his head. "No! NO! BAD STARS! BAD SHAULA! BAD ANTARES!"

Yes, the flood of feelings that Scorpio wished to express were not benevolent like Aquarius or wronged like Virgo, but merely annoyed and sadistic. Milo stumbled around the summit of Star Hill like a man possessed, clutching at his ears and yelling like an aggrieved bear.

Behind him, Aquarius Camus smirked. Athena smirked back.

"What _are_ the stars telling him, Athena?"

"I believe the direct translation from thoughts to words is 'clean your temple, you dirty bastard."

"Ah. Thought so."

"We have been telling him that for a while..."

"It's only fair that he treat the stars with respect..."

In front of them, Milo gave a singularly high-pitched wail and with a final shriek of "comb your hair!" the constellation of Scorpio pitched their Saint off of the top of Star Hill.

Athena and Camus looked down.

"Ouch. That _has_ to hurt."

"Do you think that's a broken head or a broken leg?"

"Ah, he'll recover! Milo always was one to bounce back!"

A few days later, resting in his temple with with a broken hip, femur and collarbone and a nasty cup of herbal tea, Milo vowed never to visit Star Hill again. Some things just _weren't _worth it!

* * *

**A Milo oneshot, with cameos from Camus, Shion, Athena and Shaka. Apologies if my astrology was incorrect (it probably was) and if the characters were OOC (they probably were). It's my first time writing for Saint Seiya, and I respect the canon a lot-but that doesn't mean I can follow it (or remember it!)**

**Done because Milo never seemed one to follow a set path, and because I always wondered what was so special about Star Hill anyway. (Also, wouldn't he be the cutest child?) Shaula and Antares are stars in the Scorpius constellation.**

**The Saga/Shaka interaction is canonical to Episode G. It's quite funny how much time those two spend together in that. **

**No offence to any blondes out there (I myself am blonde as you can probably tell!)**

**Contains **_**very**_** slight shonen-ai. I surprised myself-no underage boys lost their virginity in this. **

**-The Love Bug **


	2. Aphrodite's Terribly Depressing Oneshot

**Piranhas of the Mind (Nature's Ways)**

Aphrodite was born into a world of vague decadence.

Originally from Gothenburg, his mother had been a foolish student-turned-dancer-turned-actress who had become enamoured with a handsome blue-haired sailor. After one night of passion and nine months, into the world came Aphrodite Wetterstrum!

The silly thing, the scouter Saint remarked as he unpeeled the blue-haired child from his mother, was that that was his _real _name. When questioned, his young mother explained that she had confused it with Adonis and it was on the birth certificate before she could correct it.

"But couldn't you have changed it afterwards?" the scouter Saint had questioned.

"No, because by then I'd realised that it suited him perfectly."

"Don't worry, in Greece it's a man's name too!"

The scouter Saint certainly agreed that it suited him. At three years old, Aphrodite was a terror who ran riot in the dressing rooms of Gothenburg's theatres, stealing eyeliner from drawers and underwear from closets. And when he was caught red-handed with some frilly knickers or comedy hats, who could blame a child with such big, innocent eyes?

His hair curled softly around a pale, heart-shaped face and inquisitive blue eyes peered out at the world-an appearance that did not for a second match the ungodly demon housed within. For not only was Aphrodite pretty, he was also horrible. Since the day of his birth he had been spoilt rotten by his mother (the fact that he had looked just like his long-gone father helped), being showered toys, constant attention and a distinct lack of discipline. She had even taught the boy how to apply make-up, and cooed when he ate her best lipstick.

The boy was a disobedient terror who ran riot in a world in which the sole focus was him (when his mother wasn't busy). There were few other children in the theatre, and Aphrodite was too young to go to school-his only company was busy young women. Half the time he was adored, and half the time he was ignored.

But, as the scouter Saint decided as he tried to shake the blue-haired boy off his leg and into Pisces Temple, if _this _was what his mother had to put up with then he would have ignored Aphrodite too!

"Sagitta Oistos, are you quite alright?"

The Silver Saint groaned. It was Pisces Austrinus, and she was walking towards him. One the one hand it was good, because the blue-haired brat was _hers _to train, but it was also highly embarrassing that he, a Silver Saint, couldn't even get a three-year-old to obey him and that a Gold Saint was here to witness it.

Behind her mask, Gold Saint Pisces Austrinus (one of two female Gold Saints, although she hadn't seen Capricorn Vulpecula in a while) giggled. She had been feeding her goldfish when she'd heard an almighty kerfuffle outside her beloved Temple, and had come out to see what was the matter, wondering if Aiolos had got his wings caught on a rock again or if little Angelo had punched the teeth out of another Saint-in-training. Instead she saw the proud scouter Saint Sagitta Oistos battling it out with a little child that appeared to have sunk its teeth into the man's leg.

She walked over to the infuriated man and saw that yes, the blue-haired child had indeed taken a chunk out of Sagitta's leg. Ouch!

"Well, you've certainly got the killer instinct! Is this one mine, Sagitta Oistos?"

The man grimaced and shook his leg angrily. "Yes, it _is...It _is called Aphrodite, it's three years old, from Sweden and I _hate _it!"

The boy gazed up at Pisces Austrinus with curious blue eyes. She smiled behind her mask and knelt down next to Aphrodite, gingerly prising his teeth away from Sagitta's flesh and taking him into her Clothed arms. He immediately grabbed her shiny helmet and scrambled onto her shoulders, a feat almost impossible considering the shape of the Pisces armour.

Austrinus chuckled again, and helped steady Aphrodite on her shoulders. Beside her, Sagitta glared daggers at the boy (who blew him a raspberry in smug triumph.)

"Sagitta, I don't know why you object to this boy so much. He just seems rather lively, that's all-"

Suddenly her helmet was hoisted off her head, placed firmly on Aphrodite's and small legs were kicking her in the back. _Hard_.

"Giddy up, horsy! Giddy up!"

Screw that, the boy was dead. One look at the furious stance of Pisces Austrinus and Sagitta Oistos was smiling a wicked smile, one that did not bode well for Aphrodite Wetterstrum.

--------------

In the end, Aphrodite had his manners quite literally beaten into him. Pisces Austrinus hadn't become a Gold Saint by sitting around and letting people walk all over her, and there was no way in Hades that she would take this sort of disrespect from an effeminate three year-old.

So when Aphrodite had refused to give back her helmet, she had punched him so hard he had been sent flying through one of the walls of Pisces Temple. And when he'd cried and tried to run away, she tied him up with some nasty-looking vines and dangled him over a pit of piranhas. When he'd decided that he wouldn't get up at the crack of dawn the next morning, she'd actually thrown him into the piranha pool for an early-morning shock. When he'd refused to water her plants/learn how to clean her Cloth/train then he'd been told he'd have to sleep in the mountains nearby for a week, and when he hadn't showed the proper amount of respect towards old Pope Shion he'd been introduced to little Angelo (in the hopes that someone else could punch some respect into Aphrodite.)

Introducing him to Angelo had failed miserably-the two little terrors were now firm friends and could often be seen trying to sneak up and put frogs down the back of Gemini Saga's Cloth-but Aphrodite was taught Sanctuary's cardinal lessons in blood and fire and anguish (well, weedkiller.) Slowly but surely, he was having respect (for Athena and for his master) beaten into him, and devotion and loyalty were soon following. His cosmos was growing as he continued to train and one day he managed to get out of the piranha pool without any scratches at all.

(Pisces Austrinus had never been so proud!)

And so Aphrodite learnt one very important thing-that power is worthy of respect. The survival of the fittest was hammered into his heart-he saw flowers grow and weeds kill them, and then saw frost kill the weeds. He'd seen young Saints die at the hands of others, and he'd once seen a bear rip a Taurus contender's head off. Roses had grown against all odds, and he'd realised why they bore such thorns.

Power, Aphrodite realised, was what he needed-and what he must obey. He knew the Pope had more power than he could ever hope to amass-so he obeyed him. It was the same with Gemini Saga and Sagittarius Aiolos, as well as his master. But one day, he knew, he would surpass her.

It was nature's way, a vicious cycle of domination and destruction and rebirth. And Aphrodite rather liked it. No-one would be his master until they forced him to submit to them, and then he would do so kicking and screaming and biting all the while. It was nasty and almost inhuman-a detachment of emotions was preferred for this way of thinking-but the idea of the inevitable appealed to the boy.

There will always be someone more powerful, more deserving, more pious, more evil, more beautiful and cleverer than you...and there will always be defeat, no matter how long you train or how fast you punch. Anything can be destroyed, and soon enough, it will. Humans do not last long enough to make a significant change.

Pisces Austrinus worried about the boy's way of thinking. Nature was a beautiful, beastly thing and it was not good to try and mimic it in battle-ordered and time-honoured codes were needed to make it work, and Aphrodite was too young to realise that a human could never achieve put the power of the natural world into a single attack. As a Saint she understood how hard it was to retain one's humanity after such violent training...but she had managed, and, Athena willing, so would Aphrodite. She felt _that _as a woman.

To encourage the boy, she taught him about beauty. She encouraged his love of roses and taught him how to cultivate dangerous new varieties. Soon enough Aphrodite was as green-fingered as her, and had developed an attack based upon his experiences in the piranha pool. He learnt about _her _ideas of beauty-a large, soft rose that smelt of apples and that crumbled in her hands or a white frilled variety that was flushed with the palest pink, a sunset over Sanctuary's temples and a tree's branches in winter, delicate violets clustered on the ground, vines entwined and dripping with grapes-and then told her about his own.

At six years old, Aphrodite was enamoured with the beauty of the fight. He loved it-the clash of the Cloths, the desperation, terror, elation and adrenaline that accompanied each new battle and the spatters of blood upon Sanctuary's dusty ground. To him, they looked like the most perfect rose petals in the world. The innate violence and raw animosity of humans was displayed on the battleground and Aphrodite saw 'survival of the fittest' first hand. The weak were crushed, the strong became stronger and the mediocre would never have _their_ names in the history books.

Power was everything, and Aphrodite was gaining it.

* * *

When he was six years old, Pisces Austrinus sent Aphrodite to Greenland to continue his training in a more hostile environment (although she couldn't think of anywhere more silently hostile than Sanctuary.)

She had thought he'd be sad to leave, but when she'd told him where he was going he'd merely smiled and asked if he'd manage to grow roses in such a climate if he warmed them with his cosmos. And the older woman knew she should be proud to have raised and trained such a powerful, ruthless little boy-but if _only_ she had managed to preserve some traces of the loud, spoilt child she'd prised of Sagitta Oistos' leg three years ago.

Because it was her fault, wasn't it? She had beaten him into submission and taught him to obey those more powerful than he. Ah, she was _all_ to blame-and the guilt she felt wasn't something the mask she wore rid her of, though it eradicated most of her irrational women's thinking.

The other Gold Saints had their own brats to train, and one day she'd ventured out of Pisces Temple to visit Capricorn Vulpecula, saying hello to Aquarius Eridanus and his brand-new little four year-old (that didn't speak a word of Greek) on the way.

The Capricorn Saint had acquired a Spanish boy called Shura who was to be sent to the Pyrenees soon, and whom apparently had no qualms about slicing the tops off mountains (just like his master, as Excalibur was passed down through the generations of Capricorns.) Pisces Austrinus knew that she would be able to give her some decent advice.

It transpired that Capricorn Vulpecula was busy giving Virgo Spica relationship recommendations ('if the Pope has told you to break up you _break up_, you stupid blonde!') and making Scorpio Sargas tea. Pisces Austrinus merely sat down, was given a cup of smelly herbal stuff and waited for her turn to vent. Half-way through the waiting (Sargas had a _long_ list of Things Wrong with His Temple and Why) Aquarius Eridanus turned up, saying he'd felt a little lonely and could feel the party's cosmos.

"Alright, Sargas-that's enough. Austrinus, are _you _okay? You look a little peaky."

Capricorn Vulpecula was also the only other Saint to know what Austrinus looked like. She sighed, and clutched her still-full mug of tea.

"To be honest, I'm sad. Aphrodite"-here the four other Saints nodded knowingly, having decided to stay and give_ their_ advice too-"has not turned out like I hoped he would. He's much crueller than any of us were at his age, and the way he thinks...it makes me feel hollow inside, knowing that I have trained a child to believe that one can only be successful with power."

Virgo Spica raised an eyebrow. "But that is _true, _is it not? We are here today because we killed those weaker than us, and one day we will be killed by those stronger. In this respect, Aphrodite is perfectly correct."

"Speak for yourself; my master impaled himself on an icicle trying to save me!"

"The point is that he _died_, Eridanus. We must kill to succeed; it is the motto of Sanctuary."

Behind her mask, Pisces Austrinus wanted to cry. Is this what Athena wanted? Noticing this, Capricorn Vulpecula leant over the table and took her gauntleted hands in her own.

"Austrinus, I know it's upsetting-but think of it this way. We are Saints who have never known a true war, and we will be surpassed by our pupils before the next Holy War comes about. We may never even meet Athena herself, but our pupils _will_. I will not fight Hades, but Shura will and for this reason I am not teaching him about Goya or Herodotus-I am teaching him how to lose all emotion, how to love a cause, how to kill any enemy, how to think on his feet and how to strategize-how to_ survive_ a war."

Scorpio Sargas took a gulp of tea before adding his opinion. "I am teaching my boy the same. They will see things and do things we will never know, and the least they can do is be prepared. This is not a generation of Saints, Austrinus-this is a generation of warriors."

"Then Shaka is perfect, that little brat feels nothing!"

"It is true that I am training Camus to be cold, yes, but he has a kinder heart than many people think...is there any way we can train them to be ruthless killers and yet still keep them whole as people, do you think?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Eridanus."

Pisces Austrinus spoke up now. "I tried with Aphrodite, I tried to teach him to appreciate beauty...but he warped it, that killer's mind took a love of nature and made it _awful._"

Capricorn Vulpecula just sighed behind her mask, and kept clutching the other woman's hands. There were reasons women didn't become Gold Saints often, and this was one of them.

"Well, at least we still have Aiolia and Aiolos! They're nice, right?"

Somehow, that thought wasn't very comforting.

* * *

Aphrodite Wetterstrum thrived in Greenland.

He liked the people (as target practice), he liked the weather (nice and cold, like Sweden had been) and he liked the national flower, niviarsiaq-although it was nothing compared to his roses. The training camp was right on the top of Illerfissalik, the highest peak in southern Greenland and many a foolish boy had frozen there. Aphrodite resolved _not_ to be one of them.

During the six hard years he spent there, he realised a few little things. The first was that even if they had been trained by the Pisces Saint herself, the other candidates to the Pisces Cloth were worthless when compared to him. Their attacks were mediocre-nay, weak-and unoriginal. Most lacked intelligence and one or two couldn't even read properly.

Aphrodite, Austrinus' most pampered student, had all of these and more. His rose attacks were deadly, and 'Rose Piranha' was an original and terrifying concept indeed. No other trainee wanted to face him in battle and he was never picked on for his effeminate looks because of this. He was clever, certainly, and was always willing to push a friend off a fjord.

Another thing developed in Greenland-his looks. Aphrodite grew up and out and round and down, and his soft blue curls became one of his crowning glories (like many Sanctuary men, he spent a while on his hair), much admired by the other trainees.

He knew he was beautiful, his mother had always told him so and Pisces Austrinus had liked to praise him-if he had done something particularly well, he had been allowed to borrow her (scant) supplies of make-up and use it on himself. By sneaking into the local villages and thieving as much lipstick as he could get, Aphrodite found a way to make himself as beautiful as possible.

After all, it made a very effective weapon.

A good distraction, Pisces Austrinus had told him, and as he got older he used it as such. By the age of eleven he had developed all but one of his main techniques and had become even lovelier, prompting him to use his looks to distract his opponent whilst he castrated them with a rose petal. Lack of focus was a weakness, and Aphrodite only believed in survival of the fittest.

His master had visited the world's largest island once or twice every year to make sure that her students were progressing nicely, and on the eve of Aphrodite's twelfth birthday she looked him up and down, sighed and led him to a training ground near the colourful town of Qaqortoq. The wind whipped through them both, screaming in their ears and ruining their neatly combed hair.

Pisces Austrinus turned to her brightest and best student with tears in her eyes. "Aphrodite, tonight you will face me and one of us will die. This is your chance to win the Pisces Cloth. I-I know you're ready, I can feel it in your cosmos..."

Aphrodite smiled slightly. "I thought so. Tell me, was I the best choice or simply the _only_ choice for the Cloth?"

"That is irrelevant. Now, we fight. I was thirteen when I won this cloth and now I am offering you the chance to win it. You...you will make a great warrior."

_Because you are not a Saint of Athena! There is nothing Saintly about you!_

And as Aphrodite Wetterstrum bears his last name for the final time, as he tells his master all about his newest and greatest attack, 'Royal Demon Rose', and how he had got the idea for a blood-sucking, flesh-eating rose from seeing animals do the same, Pisces Austrinus thinks she might just as well take off the armour now and hand it over. Her death won't matter to him, he's a born killer with a completely amoral mind and as he launches his latest, greatest ode to the destruction of the natural world at her she shuts her eyes and thinks of the boy she once knew, the noisy little thing who only spoke Swedish and believed the world revolved around him because _anything _is preferable to the beautiful monster he's become.

And as her body falls to the floor, a single white rose (rapidly turning red) in her breast, Aphrodite takes her helmet and places it on his head as he did all those years ago.

* * *

**You know what the really silly thing is? This wasn't meant to be depressing. **

**I swear I was actually trying for humour in some parts. Anyway, this is my how-Aphro-became-Aphro oneshot, and it's made me terribly miserable. It started off as a nice look into why Aphrodite wore make-up and ended up being a gloomy surrender to the next generation of heartless killers. **

**Oh dear. And sorry about the OC, but unfortunately I'm finding them necessary. We never hear about the Gold Saints before Aphro and co, so I need to make them up. Austrinus is a woman because there aren't enough of them in Saint Seiya and because a man wouldn't have let Aphrodite eat lipstick. **

**It's also quite interesting to wonder how Saints who have never been in a war deal with being Saints, and I can only assume they help villagers and are much more Saintly than the canonical lot, as they have much more spare time. (I'm building up quite a collection of Saint Seiya: The Previous Generation! All are named after constellations or stars in their respective constellations.)**

**Also, they would not be such hardened killers. That's why they find it harder knowing the boys they're training will die soon after they do. (Soon=thirteen years.)**

**-The Love Bug**


	3. Assumptions For Aldebaran

Assumptions for Aldebaran

**A/N: It gets better towards the end.** **That's not a good thing, is it?**

* * *

"Aldebaran, you go first!"

"Yeah-it looks scary and you're bigger than we are!"

"Go on, Aldebaran-please!"

He'd heard it all a thousand times, and each time he'd said the same thing.

"Of course I will! What am I if not a Saint of Athena and a protector?"

And then those who had asked-it could be Aphrodite, it could be Camus, on one occasion it had even been Saga-would laugh, and thank him for putting his dignity/life/time on the line to help those smaller but-not-actually-weaker than himself.

Because with Aldebaran came two assumptions, the first being that because he was nice, he was also very stupid and the second being that because he was big and strong, he never got scared.

Both were completely incorrect.

For a start, Aldebaran was intelligent enough to know of these assumptions-the fact that he could no little about them was not his fault. From the minute he had arrived in Sanctuary, a frightened boy of four named Pedro, his fellow Saints had taken one look at him and decided on his personality.

He would, of course, in the minds of a young Saga and a young Milo, be quite slow because of his size. He did not speak Greek-in all likelihood he would never learn it fully, and so they would have to take it upon themselves to tutor him. Camus assumed that his size meant absolute power but that Aldebaran had no idea how to really wield it, and Shaka (who thought that being nice was a weakness and didn't have time for friends) took one look at him and declared that he was more likely to be reincarnated as an elephant than as a Saint.

Aldebaran had, of course, ignored all this and had set about calmly and quietly learning the language. Sanctuary was extremely different to Rio de Janeiro, and it scared him-but he figured it would help if he could read the signs on the temples. As the only language in Sanctuary that came close to Portuguese was Shura's Spanish, the two had quickly bonded over a common lack of comprehension and worked together to master Classical Greek. In three weeks Aldebaran had shocked Milo by actually replying to one of his barbed insults, and soon enough he was fluent. His original name was long since forgotten, and he had been renamed by his master, Taurus Ox (in honour of the Taurus Gold Saint of the 18th Century, who was in fact the third Taurus Aldebaran in the history of Sainthood, and one of the most noble.)

By the time he was five Aldebaran had managed to assimilate himself within Sanctuary and had gained the friendships of Capricorn-Saint-in-training Shura and oddball Aries-in-training Mu. Both were outcasts within the younger generations of Saints, Shura because he insisted on speaking only Spanish and Mu because he was the apprentice of the all-powerful Pope Shion.

"Why should I become one of them? Why should I abandon my culture for theirs?" Shura had angrily exclaimed-he had been dragged from the arms of a loving father by a Silver Saint who had been scouting in Zaragoza and had no wish to become a Saint of Athena. In fact, he wanted to become a painter.

"What good is this training? Not all of us are orphans; some of us have families who want us-what is the use of growing so strong if we cannot protect those we love?"

Inwardly, Aldebaran agreed entirely. He had very fond and not so far off memories of a vivid, joyful home (made of cardboard and corrugated iron) filled with bright red flowers and sunshine, of music playing and of his mother braiding his little sister's shiny brown hair, and of eating too many brigadeiros on his birthday.

He had not seen his mother greet a scouting Saint, had not seen her listen carefully to the offer of an education and training in Greece-with Pedro's potential, they had assured her, success for him was guaranteed-and certainly a better life than he had now in the slums of Rio de Janeiro. No more sleeping in doorways, they assured her. Pedro will be a great man-this is what is right.

All he had seen was his mother come to him with tears in her eyes and a bag containing all his worldly possessions. She had kissed him tearfully, promised him that she was doing what was best for him, Pedro, and that she would always love him. His little sister, barely two years old, toddled over to him and gave him a little purple flower. Neither understood what was going on-but then the Saint grabbed Pedro's sticky hand and the last thing he saw was his mother sobbing into his sister's braided hair before being teleported away.

He had thrown up all over the scouter Saint's Cloth, and when he had been presented to Pope Shion he had laughed at his silly coloured necklace, saying that his sister had one just like it. And because he was a big lad, when he cried all through his first night in Sanctuary his master had simply told him to shut the hell up and be a man.

Because, of course, real men don't cry. However, Aldebaran was Brazilian and as such was not afraid of showing strong emotions-he yelled when in pain, he cried when he was homesick and he roared with delight when he managed to find the purple flower his sister had given him squashed under his bed.

The future Aries Mu liked this about Aldebaran-because he was being trained by the Pope, naughty Saints-in-training such as Milo and Deathmask refused to have anything to do with him for fear of him snitching on them and as such Mu had few friends. The only child his age he talked to was Shaka, and the cold little blonde wasn't exactly a laugh a minute. Mu was delighted to have a friend who got excited over finding a pretty shell on the beach and who got scared at ghost stories (Shura was a master in the art of scary storytelling, better even than Deathmask).

Mu was also the only child in Sanctuary who completely ignored Aldebaran's size.

By age five, Aldebaran was a good head and shoulders over older children like Aphrodite and towered over Camus, Mu and Shaka. His chest was broad, his legs were strong and his face was determined and calm. His master was teaching him well, and Aldebaran was a quick learner-once he mastered the Great Horn he miraculously gained respect from most of his peers.

Aiolos was a little too busy to do more than coach Aldebaran on occasion, but he had instructed his little brother to be polite to the big Brazilian boy and polite Aiolia was, charging up and challenging him to a football match to the death.

With Aiolia, there was respect and the mutual knowledge that the rest of the Sanctuary viewed them as a little bit thick. This was justified in Aiolia's case-he was forever being compared to the godly Sagittarius Aiolos and _was_ a little dim, but both had a fierce sense of Right and Wrong and both believed in the inherent goodness of others (even if it was sometimes hard to find.)

But Aiolia still saw him as a rival and Aldebaran's size as an automatic challenge. The future Leo Saint tried just as hard to prove himself to Aldebaran as he did to his brother and to Pope Shion. Mu ignored all of this completely-in his wide eyes, there was no unconscious challenge provided by someone of Aldebaran's stature, there was just a good friend for a lonely Tibetan who had few.

Aldebaran never told Mu just how _grateful_ he was that he treated him as a completely average person. Not as a Saint, not as a giant, just as plain old Pedro. In return he ignored the fact that the other boy could and would tell Pope Shion of his every misdeed and that Mu looked almost as girly as Shaka, and treated him in the same way.

After a year in Sanctuary, Aldebaran's master dragged him off to Brazil for an arduous test to 'prove his worthiness' of the Gold Cloth of Taurus. Most of the other Gold Saints in training had been whisked away too-Aphrodite had gone to Greenland, Shaka was in India, Deathmask had ended up in Sicily (the lucky thing), Camus was in Siberia freezing peasants and Milo had been made to swim to Milo Island.

Shura had been sent to the Pyrenees a few months earlier-Pope Shion had hoped that actually making him wear the Capricorn cloth might encourage him to speak Greek and worship Athena. (As Aldebaran found out later, it did.)

Mu, however, was staying in Sanctuary with Pope Shion and Aiolia for company. Aldebaran bade his one remaining friend goodbye in a quiet, understated style-by making an enormous amount of brigadeiros, filling all the temples with flowers and by writing 'GOODBYE MOO' in enormous letters on the side of Aries Temple.

Pope Shion had laughed at this, and it was the last time Aldebaran heard that sound in Sanctuary. He spent two hard, lonely years in Brazil learning about his constellation and what it _truly _meant to serve Athena. His master drummed into him the knowledge that Taurus was the zodiacal representation of Zeus in bull form, and that he should always respect his constellation as such. It guided his destiny, his life, his very heart. Aldebaran was the one of the brightest stars in the sky and it aptly meant 'the Follower'. So too must he follow his stars and Athena.

By the time he was seven, Aldebaran had won his Gold Cloth (after two years of hell and his master's cooking, he felt he deserved it!) and had come back to Sanctuary. The desire to find his family had mysteriously left when he put on his Cloth for the first time, and the Aldebaran then was a far cry from the happy little Pedro that had arrived in Greece so long ago.

And he had grown even bigger-he was now taller even than Deathmask and Aiolos, prompting bitter rivalries between him and the Italian boy. Deathmask did not like competition-indeed, whilst in Sicily he had picked off the other hopefuls for the Cancer Cloth one by one until only he and a weedy little Majorcan remained. The ten-year-old saw a challenge in the form of Aldebaran, and never lost an opportunity to exploit Aldebaran's weaknesses.

Not that there were many. In fact he only really had three-his habit of being nice to everyone, the fact that he was scared of the dark and his friendship with Mu. The last one had been identified by Shaka as soon as Aldebaran had returned from Brazil and had greeted Mu-who had grown up a little-with an enormous bear-hug and a yell.

The now-Virgo saint (who had stayed tiny and merciless) had promptly declared Aldebaran unsuitable to be a Saint. "You are far too attached. If you don't need Mu, why spend time with him? What is the benefit? In the grand scheme of things, what good will this silly friendship do? Abandon it now, before you both grow up and die."

Aldebaran had taken a deep breath, a healthy dose of patience and virtue and had sat down to educate the blonde on the joys of friendship. "Shaka-"

"It's Virgo Shaka, actually."

"I know, but surely I am allowed to call you Shaka? Anyway, friendship is a mutually beneficial thing-Mu and I enjoy each other's company, and through that enjoyment we find happiness and a more determined urge to perform our sacred duties. It is grounding in a world that does, to be honest, make little sense."

Shaka had frowned, his delicate eyebrows knotting. "But what if one of you dies? Surely the friendship is not worth the fallout? Why inflict _that_ upon yourself?"

The Brazilian had smiled then, and put a hand on Shaka's armour-clad shoulder. "Sounds to me like you're scared of friendship, Shaka! Does having Buddha in your head make you not want to feel? I can assure you a good friendship is worth every minute..."

"Buddha is not _in my head_, you fool! And don't you dare lecture me! You have _no right _to do so, you are not my superior!" With that Shaka had stormed off with all the force an angry seven-year-old could muster, and Aldebaran was left chuckling behind. Shaka may have been more powerful than he, but Aldebaran could at least feel and that was infinitely superior to whatever deformed notions of humanity the little blonde had gained.

And as Mu came running up the hill, his pink hair fluttering behind him and an enormous bucket full of dirt slipping and sliding in front of him, Aldebaran felt that this weakness was possibly his greatest strength.

"Aldebaran! We are going FISHING! I have WORMS! LOTS OF WORMS!"

A bucket of worms was shoved into Aldebaran's arms as Mu continued his babble-"and now we RUN because I took these from Aphrodite's rose garden and I uprooted half of his bushes so we go NOW!"

The furious figure of a nine-year old in curlers was seen emerging from Pisces Temple. Mu and Aldebaran ran. Once again, no words were really needed and behind them, Milo caught the entire thing on videotape.

Mu also disagreed with the general assumption that Aldebaran being nice was a bad thing, and had said so loudly and on many occasions-but it also got Aldebaran into trouble, and as such it became Mu's unofficial duty to defend Aldebaran from those who would take advantage of his helpful nature.

One such time had been when Milo and Camus had discovered a large, dark cave on the outskirts of Sanctuary and instead of doing the sensible thing (leaving it alone) the gruesome twosome had run off to fetch (who else?) Aldebaran.

They had found him scrubbing the steps of Taurus Temple (a trainee had thrown up and Aldebaran had _offered _to do the job, another sure sign of his madness) and whistling 'Pedro the Mason' to himself. Milo had immediately skipped up to him and gave the Brazilian his most trustworthy smile.

"Say, Aldebaran? Would you mind helping us with something quickly?"

Milo's grin was so big it nearly split his face, and Camus, whilst not grinning, had a similar expression of sincerity. Aldebaran looked down at them, confused.

"My help? Why? What have you done this time? You know you're on your last official warning, Milo...."

The grinning continued. "Oh, it's nothing _illegal!_ At least, we don't think it is. We just want you to come and help us explore this cave we found just outside the Arena!"

Hmm...large cave, probably dark, probably with bats who would probably have rabies, probably highly dangerous....Aldebaran considered it for a moment, but looking at his 'friend's' hopeful faces he knew he would have to say yes.

Damn compassion for those smaller and weaker than himself.

"Yes! Thanks a lot, Aldebaran! It's this way!" The brightly-coloured boys ran off at the speed of light, Milo shrieking with delight. And yet, Aldebaran considered, it is not like they are weaker than me-they probably believe they are stronger, yet I doubt either would want to face me in a fight....

"Hurry up, Aldy! The cave won't wait forever!"

Aldebaran sighed and ran after them, hoping he'd done the right thing.

None of the boys noticed the watchful and unusually open gaze of Virgo Shaka, who had been perched in the tree above them the entire time. His big blue eyes followed Aldebaran's retreating figure down the staircases of Taurus and Aries Temple and then out of the Arena, before arriving at the foot of a mountain near Star Hill.

Camus and Milo were waiting for him, their long hair swaying gently in the breeze. The sunlight glinted off their sacred Gold Cloths and they had expressions of absolute honesty on their little faces. All in all, perfect examples of child Saints. Aldebaran didn't trust them-but they were his comrades; he should give them another chance. It was only right.

His brown eyes glinted with determination. "What must I do?"

Milo smirked, and indicated to a gaping hole in the side of the mountain. It looked rather dark and exceedingly dangerous, and Milo was smiling at it like it was his new best friend.

"Here"-he said, grinning up at Aldebaran-"is the entrance to Priscilla. That's her name, by the way. Priscilla the cave. We want you"-here he pointed at Aldebaran-"to enter Priscilla and have a good look around, go as far as you can inside, then come back out and tell us what it was like."

Camus was sniggering and Aldebaran had the feeling that he'd heard similar words before. Nonetheless...

"Why must I go first? My attacks are destructive and only my cosmos can illuminate the way. It's better to let Camus go first so he can freeze any potential threat immediately and then we can destroy it together."

Milo looked stricken. "Please, Aldebaran-you're bigger than we are and scarier! Anything in there will run a mile as soon as it sees you!"

"Soon as it sees _your_ face, you mean."

"Camus, my face is beautiful. And go on, Aldebaran-we need you!"

And of course the Brazilian agreed. It was the same with puppies and kittens-during his two years in Brazil, the young boy had rescued on average three abandoned animals a day. Some had ended up as supper; others had gone to good homes. None had stayed with Aldebaran, but he just _hadn't _been able to say no.

"Very well. As a Saint of Athena and a protector of mankind, I will do my sacred duty!"

"Jeez, Aldy, all we want you to do is look at a cave!"

But Aldebaran had already rushed inside.

Meanwhile, a muddier Mu than usual had trundled up to Taurus Temple with a cheeky grin on his face and a bag of sweets in his pocket, ripe for sharing. He had just finished cleaning all the Silver Cloths in Sanctuary, as it had been a while and they had got rather dirty. As a reward for a job well done, Pope Shion had given him sherbets and so he had toddled off to share them with Aldebaran.

However, Taurus Temple was empty and the hallowed halls were devoid of underage Brazilian. A mop and bucket lay forgotten on the steps outside, as did a few dubious stains. Mu wandered around for a bit, trying to locate any traces of his friend's cosmos.

"AAAAALDE-BARAN! WHERE AAAA-RE YOU? I HAVE SHERBETS!"

No luck. Mu tried again.

"THERE ARE LOTS OF THEM, AND THEY'RE STRAWBERRY FLAVOURED!"

Still no luck. Mu was just taking a deep breath for his third attempt when a quiet voice from the doorway stopped him in his tracks.

"He's not here. If you want...I can show you where he's gone." Sure enough, from behind a column peeped Virgo Shaka, looking shyer than Mu had ever seen him. He had an odd expression on his little face, and his big blue eyes were wide-open.

Mu grinned and ran towards the blonde. "Excellent! Can you show me where he went?"

Shaka looked almost embarrassed. "Yes...yes I can. He went down to that big cave near Star Hill that Deathmask sometimes hides in when he doesn't want a bath."

The pink-haired boy looked confused. "What's Aldy doing there? He doesn't like the dark _or_ Deathmask!"

"Milo and Camus asked him to help them explore it-I can only assume that they don't know Deathmask uses it..."

Mu shrugged. "Eh, it's his choice I guess. I'll go help them, I'm good with rocks. But first"-with that the boy pulled a crumpled little bag out of his pocket and offered it to Shaka-"have a sherbet. You know, for helping me and all."

Shaka just looked at him blankly.

Mu sighed, and removed one of the pink oval-shaped sweets. "Look, this is a _strawberry sherbet_-you eat them and they taste like heaven! I am giving it to you to thank you for helping me find my best friend, and because I can see that you're finding _your_ first taste of friendship quite odd."

He held out the sweet to Shaka, who took it gingerly. "This thing tastes like Nirvana?"

"No, no-that was a figure of speech, but they do taste very nice-wait, have you never even had sweets? What_ did_ Virgo Spica raise you on?"

The blonde blinked. "Meditation, training, cabbage?"

"Makes sense. Look, just show me where Aldy is, okay?" With that, Mu grabbed Shaka's thin wrist and dragged him out of Taurus Temple, shoving a sherbet into the blonde's mouth along the way.

Unfortunately, they were a bit too late. At that very moment, Aldebaran had sprung into the open mouth of the cave and was encompassed by a heavy blanket of dark. Milo and Camus peered nervously into the gloom, hoping they hadn't just impaled their friend on a stalagmite.

"A-Aldebaran? Are you okay?" Camus' voice called into the darkness, but the young Taurus saint was nowhere to be seen. Beside him, Milo looked worried.

"Camus, have we doomed Aldy to a horrible, horrible death alone in the dark?"

Both boys looked into the inky black hole that was the cave.

"Nah, he's Aldebaran, he'll be _fine!_"

At this very moment Mu ran up, covered in dirt and dragging Shaka behind him. The little blonde looked most perturbed and appeared to be choking on something; Mu was simply bulldozing everything in his way in his haste to get to the mouth of the cave.

"Gangway! Milo, where is Aldebaran?!"

"Aaargh! Don't hit me, you ruffian! Aim for Camus!"

"Excuzes-_moi_?"

Mu skidded to a halt in front of the entrance. "_Please_ tell me he isn't in that cave!"

Camus and Milo exchanged guilty looks. "Er...we don't want to lie to you, so how about we tell you that he is either in that cave and we can't see him, or that he has been teleported to Mars?"

The pink-haired boy's dots scrunched up in anger. "And why did you let him go in there? Aldy doesn't like the dark!"

At this, Milo looked indignant. "Hey, we didn't force him into going _anywhere! _We only asked for a favour and he agreed-if he hadn't wanted to do it, he would have said. Anyway, since when is Aldebaran scared of anything?"

"Shut up! You _knew_ he wouldn't say no-you used him! Do you even know what that cave is used for?"

Shaka sighed at the pointless arguing and crept over to the entrance of the cave. If he concentrated hard, he was sure he'd be able to find Aldebaran's cosmos in all that velvet darkness...

Meanwhile, Aldebaran of Taurus was in the dark (literally.) He had jumped headfirst into an unknown cave without a light and had, much to his relief, survived. But if this cave was unused by all except Camus and Milo, then why could he smell corpses?

Sure enough, the putrid scent of rotting flesh hung in the thick air-Aldebaran recognized it immediately, from both his early childhood in the slums of Rio de Janeiro and his training as a Saint. But why here? Were Milo and Camus secret murderers? Was this where Sanctuary's dead guards, apprentices and Saints ended up after fulfilling their purpose?

Would he, Aldebaran, one day end up rotting in the belly of a mountain?

Flaring his cosmos to create a heavenly golden glow around him, the Brazilian called out into the shadows. He _hated _the dark.

"Hello? Is this cave uninhabited? Is there anyone here?"

The call reverberated around the stone walls, sending chills down Aldebaran's sturdy spine. And then, much to his surprise, something answered.

"Always one for the obvious questions, aren't you? Well, this cave will be uninhabited...soon."

It was a lazy, familiar Italian drawl that made Aldebaran's (impressive) stomach muscles clench and his legs shake in fear. Oh, _crap. _Of all the places to be in...

Cancer Deathmask, resplendent in golden Cloth and amusing helmet, strolled out of the shadows nibbling at a chicken wing. Finishing it, he chucked it into the encompassing darkness and looked at Aldebaran.

"What? Some of us like a lunch on the run, you know. And welcome...welcome to my quaint little hidey-hole, far away from the prying eyes of Pope Shion..."

He laughed, and Aldebaran felt vaguely sick. Here he was, in Deathmask's nasty little hideout surrounded by the rotting corpses of the Italian boy's victims...and hell, he knew Deathmask didn't like him, hated the fact that Aldebaran was taller than him and had power, loathed his guts for 'sucking up'-as Deathmask saw it-to Mu and Pope Shion-what was to stop him attacking?

This led to an even nastier thought-had Milo and Camus set this up deliberately to eliminate him? No, no, surely...that was completely possible. Camus was nigh on emotionless and Milo was completely ruthless-again, what was to stop them?

Sometimes, Aldebaran felt like he was the only man who still possessed morals in Sanctuary. In front of him, Deathmask grinned.

"Say, you look a little nervous...how d'ya fancy a game? It's called 'Last Man Standing' and as I suspect you know-whoever kills the other man first wins."

Aldebaran took a deep breath and raised his hands. "Cancer Deathmask, I respect you as an adversary (even if I don't like you as a person) but I will never, never kill a fellow Gold Saint. It would go against everything we as Saints stand for, and you should feel the same."

Deathmask smirked. "Nah, too wishy-washy. The way _I _see it, you're scared to fight 'cos you know I'm better than you. After all, I've got my Sekishiki Meikaiha and what have you got? Your size? Your Great Horn? I think this is a little one-sided."

Oh dear. Aldebaran tried once more. "Look, Deathmask, trying to kill me is stupid-what does it achieve?"

"Extreme personal satisfaction and the knowledge of a job well done?"

"What?! No, it makes you a traitorous murderer, as well as an extremely stupid one. Camus and Milo may have put you up to this, but I am _just _as dangerous as you, Deathmask!"

The Italian glared. "Oh, I will Sekishiki Meikaiha you _so hard-"_

"-Not before I Great Horn you!"

And then a voice cut through the darkness, and a glowing body quickly followed. "No-one will be doing any Great Horning or Sekishiki-ing today! Stop this _right now _before I tell Pope Shion!"

The Brazilian spun around, delighted. "Mu! What are you doing here? Are you all right? Did Milo and Camus try and murder you too?"

From behind Mu, two more shiny little figures appeared. "Oi! We weren't trying to kill _anyone! _All we wanted was to explore Priscilla the cave!"

Milo and Camus came into view, and from behind them came the greatest surprise of all.

"Shaka's here? What on Earth?"

The final figure stepped into view, looking quite calm despite the piles of corpses surrounding the little group. Mu gave a triumphant smile.

"Taurus Aldebaran, we have come to rescue you from the evil clutches of Cancer Deathmask!"

"Um, I'm okay, really..."

"My clutches are not evil, you pink-haired brat! My clutches are fun!"

"Pull the other one, spikey!"

"Shut up, you stupid little scorpion!"

"Calm down, _Angelmask!"_

"Have I ever metioned to you that I e_at frogs for breakfast?!"_

"...."

"Shaka, it's your turn to insult Deathmask."

"Oh...okay. You are but a monkey dancing in the palm of Buddha?"

"What?!"

"Okay, as soon as we get out of here I'm teaching you new insults!"

And they did, eventually, get out of that cave. Mu (quite vigorously) explained that as he and Shaka were hurrying to find Aldebaran, they had met up with a worried-looking Aphrodite, who hadn't seen Deathmask all day.

"Well, I was hiding in here, wasn't I?"

The Swede had told them that Deathmask must be in a particularly foul mood as he hadn't even stopped by Pisces Temple to say hello. Naturally, Mu and Shaka started panicking and had raced down to the cave as fast as possible, where they had crashed into an equally-worried-and-rather-guilty Milo and Camus, who thought they had sent Aldebaran to his untimely death.

Which, inadvertently, they almost had. But they got out (because soon afterwards Gemini Saga himself showed up and dragged Deathmask off by the ear, complaining about the irresponsible younger generation all the while) and had survived the horrors of the cave. Furthermore, all five boys had learnt valuable lessons.

Shaka, for example, had learnt about the values of friendship and how not to eat a sweet. Milo and Camus had learnt to look before you leap and not take others for granted. Mu had learnt that he was better than Deathmask, and Aldebaran had learnt the best lesson of all; that one _could _rely on his brothers in times of need.

Being seven years old, however, they all forgot these lessons a few days later. But at the time, they were all that mattered! Five little boys had become (marginally) closer and as far as Pope Shion was concerned, he would be happy to dump a thousand Brazilians in a thousand caves if it meant that Athena's Saints would willingly work together for the good of one another.

Now, how could he make it work with Shura, Aphrodite and Aiolia?

* * *

**Done for Aldebaran, 'cos I think many people view him as quite a one-dimensional character. **

**This obviously isn't a complete history-more his early life as a Saint. But I wanted to see what I could make of his character, and this is what I got. Apologies if it's choppy, inconsistent and not true to Aldebaran! **

**Once again, there's lots of Shaka. Expect that for most of them. (It's a disease!) **

**Mu may or may not have been like this as a child, but Mu as an adult is quite an enigma, so I think it's safe to say he was an energetic kid who cared for his friends. As far as I'm concerned, Mu and Aldebaran's friendship is canon.**

**Brigadeiros are a popular Brazilian sweet and Zaragoza is a city in Spain. Strawberry sherbets probably can't be found in Greece, but they **_**are **_**like eating Nirvana. 'Pedro the Mason' is a Portuguese song.**

**As for Shura's little cameo-I do believe the armour wipes your desire to return home or to make a life sans Athena, and it would be interesting if Shura, the most loyal of them all, was a victim of this. Also, him being a painter could work-he has Picasso (still alive in his lifetime, just) and Goya as influences. **

**-The Love Bug. **


	4. The Pope's Privileges

The Pope's Privileges

**A/N: Warning, this is a DARK one, containing yaoi, threesomes, paedophilia and a bit of rape. Only read if you're comfortable with the idea of Shion/Aiolos (and the like) and Saga/Shaka (and the like.) Canonical to Lost Canvas and Episode G, although the idea itself makes this AU.**

**It made my soul shrivel up and die whilst writing it. Enjoy!**

* * *

_It is the duty of the Grand Pope of Sanctuary not to rule, but to serve._

_He (or she, as it sometimes happens) must serve Athena, serve her Saints and serve Sanctuary to the best of their ability. They may be the weakest Bronze Saint in Sanctuary or the strongest Gold Saint ever seen-but if they become Pope knowing that they must serve and never, ever rule then they shall be a great Pope indeed. _

_Obviously there are exceptions to this rule, and in some cases it is necessary for the Pope to exert some of his papal influences upon his unruly denizens. But through it all he must keep a calm cosmos and a fair mind, knowing that what he does in the end must always be to the benefit of Athena, her Saints and her Sanctuary. _

_The Pope may serve-but Athena gives something back. For his service and devotion, Athena allows the Pope at the time his pick of Sanctuary's Saints, and for him to do with them as he pleases. Age and gender is irrelevant-all they must be are Saints. That is the privilege of the Grand Pope. _

_And for their part, Athena's Saints are happy to serve._

* * *

"Pope Shion, the new recruits have arrived!"

An earnest voice cut across the gloom of the largest temple in Sanctuary, the Pope's Palace. Deep in said gloom sat the imposing figure of the Grand Pope Aries Shion himself, leader of Sanctuary and chief defender of Athena. Her greatest defence and greatest weakness all in one, this particular Pope was one of the last relics from the Holy War of the eighteenth century and had an odd habit of eating crisps with garlic mayonnaise. Libra Dohko said it made his breath smell like Degel's used to, and the Saints of today politely ignored it.

"Pope Shion, sir-will you see them now?" The eager baritone of Sagittarius Aiolos cut into Shion's reverie, and the Pope looked up slowly, his enormous green-grey hair rising like a lion's mane behind him. The Saints of today told him it was an impressive sight when coupled with his sparkling purple eyes, Libra Dohko simply told him to find a good comb.

Aiolos was there looking proud and strong in his Gold Cloth, the wings casting a scary silhouette on the marble floor in front of him. At his feet were three little figures-one blonde, one with hair that was a pleasant shade of green and one sulky little boy with what should have been curly purple locks, but were in fact sparse and tufty.

"May I present to you Shaka, Camus and Milo, Pope Shion? They'll be under the tutelage of Virgo Spica, Aquarius Eridanus and Scorpio Sargas respectively and are all four years old."

Shion gazed at the three little boys, and the three little boys gazed back. After a minute or so of quiet contemplation, he asked Aiolos an important question.

"Sagittarius Aiolos, why have you brought a bald boy to Sanctuary? Do you not know how important hair clearly is to a guardian of Athena?"

Aiolos laughed, and the boy in question looked annoyed. "Ah, do not worry; Pope Shion-Milo's hair will grow back soon enough! He had an unfortunate accident with some bubblegum a few days ago, so is not looking his best-but I assure you, his hair is lovely."

"Oi! I am _not _lovely, you twit with wings!"

"Do not speak in such a way when in the presence of the Grand Pope!"

"Who cares who he is? It's my birthday in two weeks and as I present, I want to go home! Permanently!"

"Milo, you are the future Gold Saint of Scorpio-this is your life now and-"

As the kerfuffle raged on, Shion looked at the newest additions to Sanctuary in a way that only he was permitted to. Milo, the loudest of the three boys, was a Greek with dark olive skin and bright blue eyes. He would, Shion supposed, grow up tall and strong and outspoken regardless of his power level. Camus, the boy with the soft green hair that reached his shoulders, had a dark blue gaze and a look common in France-discontent. Shion supposed he would be pretty too, unless he cut his hair. And the last boy had the longest hair, although it was of a more common colour. Shaka's eyes were tightly shut but framed by big lashes and Shion wasn't sure-this boy's looks could go either way. Either his delicate Indian features would mature well and he would become beautiful, or his eyes would prove too big for his small face and he would end up looking terribly strange.

Ah well. Shion supposed he'd sleep with him anyway. With a wave to Aiolos, the boys and man-boy were dismissed and Shion was left with the pangs of nostalgia.

After all, he'd been Pope for over two hundred years. In that time, he'd learnt several things-firstly, that being the Pope really took it out of you, and secondly that whilst the Silver and Bronze Saints didn't have to be beautiful, the Gold Saints were only picked if they had the potential to be both attractive and powerful. He supposed he'd always known it-back in his halcyon youth when Dohko had still been young and strong, all the Gold Saints had been visions of loveliness (even if their personalities were far from it.) Pope Sage had been lucky-he would forever be remembered as a noble Pope who led a Holy War and as the only man ever to bed Virgo Asmita.

Shion smiled. Of course they had been willing-Athena was strictly out of bounds, so the Pope was the nearest thing to her and they were all eager for some attention and to express their devotion. Relationships among themselves were-and remained-quite forbidden, so even the haughtiest of Saints would consider it an honour to be chosen as the Pope's companion for a night.

Pope Sage had of course made full use of this-he had bedded Degel, Kardia (but only once), Sisyphus, Manigoldo (many times) and El Cid as well. He'd slept with Dohko and of course, he, Aries Shion, had trotted into the bedroom like a good little lamb. Albafica had stayed away, but that was through no fault of his own and he had assured Pope Sage that if he could have, he _would._

Then the Holy War came and killed them all, and he and Dohko were left to pick up the pieces. Shion became Pope and saw generations and generations of beautiful, powerful Saints of Athena pass through Sanctuary. They passed through his bedchamber too, but he only remembered a few-a particularly lovely Leo Saint, a more compliant than usual Virgo or a surprisingly chaste Capricorn-he divided his attention between them all.

Dohko hadn't really liked it, but it was the Pope's duty as well as his privilege. By accepting the love of his Saints, he was serving them, Sanctuary and Athena. And by the time the second generation had come around, Dohko had left Shion for Mount Rozan and the Pope was free to do as he pleased with the Saints of Sanctuary.

Only once had he made a true mistake in his sexual endeavours, and that had been paying too much attention to a 'lowly' Silver Saint. Perseus Torsten had been the most beautiful Saint of his generation, and Shion had fallen for him fast and hard. But whilst lavishing his attention upon one weak Silver Saint, his Gold Saints (as well as the other Silver and Bronze Saints) felt neglected and undervalued. And as relationships were forbidden and therefore rare, they responded in the only way they knew how-violence.

Pope Shion had fished Perseus Torsten's battered and very dead body out of the sea himself, and had sobbed into it as the Saints of Athena stood behind him, smirking. It did not pay to anger those you served.

That had been almost a hundred years ago, but nothing had changed since then. He was still Pope, and he still took Saints into his bedchamber on fairly regular occasions. His age was, he reasoned, no reason to stop him doing the most enjoyable of all his papal duties. Two hundred years had passed, the seal of Hades was nearly broken-this new generation of Saints would fight the next Holy War, and he doubted he would survive.

It was a tiresome thought, the idea that he might die. But it was not a new one.

"Master Shion!" A little voice cut through Shion's reverie, and a pink-haired four-year-old stumbled into view. "Master Shion, guess what?"

Sure enough it was Mu; the little Tibetan Shion had begun training himself. Another one whose features could go either way-the face could become lovely and androgynous, or his lack of eyebrows would come to not suit his face and his natural elegance would be lost in favour of a rippling warrior's body. Who knows, perhaps he could achieve both-Shion didn't care anymore, Mu was another one he would sleep with when he was older regardless of looks.

For now, Shion smiled at the excited child. "What is it that has made you so happy, Mu?"

The green-eyed boy beamed. "Shaka is like me-he is also a Buddhist! I have made a friend!"

And if a relationship developed between Mu and Shaka despite Shion's best efforts, then he would deal with it quickly and quietly. The purpose of the Pope's privileges was to stop this happening-instead the Gold Saints, the most powerful and volatile of the lot, would develop their relationships with the Pope and stay loyal only to him. But his future Gold Saints were young, this did not matter now.

"I'm very happy for you, Mu, and I hope you become a good friend to him. Now, can you fetch me Virgo Spica? He should be in his temple with Shaka."

Mu grinned and teleported away. A few moments later, a haughty-looking Saint with long blonde curls and grey eyes appeared, his armour-clothed feet clacking on the marble floor.

"You called, Pope Shion?" Virgo Spica had mastered the art of the condescending smile, and was wont to treat the Pope as a senile old man.

Which, of course, he wasn't. Not yet, anyway. "Ah, Spica-I wanted to talk to you about Shaka. Did you know he looks just like Virgo Asmita?" Shion smiled at the look of distaste on Virgo Spica's face.

"And I look like my grandfather. Does it matter?" Spica had never been one for dwelling on the past, always looking to push forward into the future. Pope Shion, who actually had a past, was the exact opposite.

"I just thought it was interesting. I think we've been having more reincarnations than usual as of late...anyway, the boy's a Buddhist and I want you to respect that."

"What? Why?! Nasty heathen religion, in _Sanctuary _of all places..."

"It would be foolish to kill such a thing. I want you to treat him decently, Spica-this boy doesn't deserve to end up dead at your hands. Plant a flower and for once watch it grow."

The blonde sniffed. "I can make you no promises. If this is just because the brat looks like someone you know then I _certainly_ won't promise."

Shion's eyes hardened. "Spica, you _will_ obey me. Bedchamber, now."

"Ah, pathetic! Once again, Pope Shion imposes his will through sex! Is there anyone you haven't tried this on?"

"_Now."_

And Virgo Spica obeyed, because when a Pope gave you an order you followed it, regardless of what it was or how demeaning it was to you. Pope Shion rose and followed him, banging the doors of the main chamber shut behind him. The clash of Cloth against Cloth followed, accompanied by muffled protests and groans. Old Pope Shion had pushed the younger, more beautiful Saint down onto the bed and took him hard and fast.

Because the Pope may serve, but he serves Sanctuary's best interests-and those are stability and peace. If a soul or so gets harmed in the process, well...it is worse in times of war.

Shion finished quickly, and Virgo Spica scrambled out from underneath him, cheeks burning with shame. He quickly gathered up his abandoned Cloth and started to rectify his trousers.

On the bed, the old Pope smiled. "Come now, Spica-there's no shame in bedding the Pope!"

"There is when you're not willing! Not everyone wishes to dance to your tunes _or _to be your devoted little whore!"

"Are you referring to yourself and Cancer Acubens? I do, of course, know of your relationship with him and would care to remind you who your true master is, Spica. Remember that."

With a cry of rage, Virgo Spica burst out of Shion's bedchamber and stormed out of the Pope's Palace, ready to take his anger out on the nearest and weakest thing in sight. That would probably be little Shaka, but Shion felt it was worth it in the long run-Spica would rather treat the boy with respect than have a repeat of what had just occurred.

Because sometimes authority must be imposed, and who better to do it than the Pope? And he could not have thought of a better way to do it, not in a thousand years!

Ah, praise to Athena, she who gave him such marvellous privileges...

* * *

And so years (but not many) passed and Pope Shion watched as his tiny Gold Saints grew up into children with the power to destroy the world.

Milo was seven years old when he defeated his master and gained the Gold Cloth of Scorpio. He had turned from a loud, unhappy little boy into a dedicated and good-looking child, and Shion had no qualms about summoning Milo to the Pope's Palace.

The purple-haired boy knelt in front of him, big blue eyes respectfully earnest. "You called, Pope Shion?"

And up on his throne, the older man smiled. He liked the lively, intelligent ones who took the initiative and he felt sure that when Milo was older he would become one of these. A wrinkled hand stroked the purple curls affectionately, and Milo smiled happily. He was an extroverted boy who liked attention, and if it was from the Pope himself, well...

"I merely wished to congratulate you on winning the Scorpio Cloth, Milo. I am pleased-you will make a good Saint and in a few years I have no doubt that you will make an excellent companion for me."

"Thank you, Pope Shion!" (Because of course Milo knew about his duties to the Pope-all Saints did, especially those in training for the Gold Cloths. And although their virginities were reserved strictly for the Pope, it was not uncommon for their masters to train them in the ways of pleasuring a man so that when they _were_ called to the Pope's bedchamber they did not disappoint.)

Shion placed a gentle kiss on Milo's soft, small lips. "Good boy...you shall make me happy later on."

_This _was how Saints loyal to Athena were made. They become loyal to the Pope and the Pope made them love Athena, ergo complete control (and all is well in Sanctuary.)

Shion said a similar thing to the new Aquarius Camus, who had grown up into a quiet, solemn little fellow with a beautiful face and very amusing eyebrows. He appeared to be someone Shion could trust, even at such a young age, and the Pope liked that. He too would make a nice consort.

Taurus Aldebaran was a remarkable boy, and Pope Shion was wary about approaching him-the Brazilian was young but large and gorgeously well-muscled. Shion found him attractive in a way, and had decided to wait until puberty hit to sleep with him. Aldebaran would almost certainly be a sexual equal to him by then, and that would make for an interesting experience.

Saints such as Pisces Aphrodite and Cancer Deathmask were that little bit older, and as such Shion went that little bit further with them. Aphrodite in particular was a beautiful boy with classical features and sweet-smelling blue ringlets, and Shion enjoyed kissing those plump pink lips and caressing the nine year-old's body. Pisces Austrinus had been diligent in her training of the young Saint and Aphrodite was able and willing to pleasure Pope Shion in ways most normal nine year-olds wouldn't immediately consider.

Cancer Deathmask, on the other hand, respected Pope Shion but refused to submit to him. Shion acknowledged the challenge as one dominant male to another, and hadn't pressed the issue. The boy was handsome, yes, but he was only ten years old and he was all Athena's. There was no need to hurry with him.

Virgo Shaka pleased Shion very much, primarily because his face had matured nicely and he had become an exquisite little thing, with huge blue eyes and shining hair-very much like Asmita, although luckily the boy wasn't blind. His personality left something to be desired-he was cold, merciless and had few friends-but Pope Shion had encouraged a sweet little friendship with Mu (who was also lonely) and it was a joy to see two such pretty boys playing together in the courtyard as the Grecian sunlight sparkled off their armour and the wind made their pastel-coloured hair dance.

The Pope began making plans for a threesome as soon as the two boys were over ten years of age.

Two more years passed, and Pope Shion grew old and weary. He could no longer perform his bedroom duties on a regular basis, and there were aches in his heart and his back that there hadn't been before. Dreams of threesomes were abandoned, and it was time for a new Pope to see them through the next Holy War. Of course he would be there-they would need him to guide them, he who had fought the Spectres of Hades and survived-but a younger, stronger man was needed now.

Only two Gold Saints were available for the job. The first was Sagittarius Aiolos-practically perfect in his Sainthood-and Gemini Saga, a blue-haired demigod with more power than sanity.

And on the night before Pope Shion made his final decision, he called both teenagers to his chambers. Aiolos was first, and he submitted himself joyfully, eager to show the Pope every aspect of his devotion to Athena. Shion relaxed and allowed his aged hands to enjoy every aspect of the young, bronzed body, to feel each taunt muscle and every smooth curve Aiolos' long, lean legs made when wrapped around his waist.

It was not the first time he had been with Aiolos-of course not-but the sight of the Sagittarius Saint spread out on the bedclothes flushed and panting like a whore and with _love _in his eyes rejuvenated Shion's old body and he made love to Aiolos with a fervour not seen for years.

"Ah-ah, Pope Shion! There!"

With his arms flung around Shion's shoulders and his strong legs pressing the older man's hips forward, Aiolos was also making love as he had never done before. Wet, childish kisses were plastered over Shion's body, each one full of heartfelt adoration and devotion. Hands slipped and wandered in places only the most high-ranking Saints dared to go, and through it all there was love. Love for Athena, a love for life and a love of Sanctuary. Aiolos knew he was fighting a demigod for the position of Pope-and so he would fight with the purity of his soul and the sincerity of his devotion.

Even more than Shion could ever know, Aiolos understood how to _serve_. The Pope's mind was made up before he had climaxed, and afterwards, as he lay with Aiolos in his arms and his nose nuzzling the chestnut curls, he had smiled and whispered the good news in the younger boy's flushed ear.

"_You...are perfect. You shall be the greatest Pope Sanctuary has ever seen, and Athena willing, you will lead us to victory in the next Holy War. Nothing and no-one will compare to you."_

Aiolos had smiled and snuggled into Shion's embrace, too exhausted to do anything more than that. And after a long, innocent kiss he had left a few hours later, with love in his heart and determination in his eyes.

Gemini Saga arrived much later in the evening and Shion received him gracefully, wary of the darkness that tainted the blue-haired boy's powerful cosmos. Saga immediately put a finger on Shion's lips and told him quite firmly that "No, there will be no kissing tonight, you do _not_ love me and we do not need feelings to come into this..."

And as they undressed and Saga pushed _Shion_ down onto the mussed bed, fully intending to ride him, Shion knew at once that Saga would be discontent as Pope. In his mind, Saga was born to rule and never to serve, he could never be happy with such a position as Pope-he wants to be more than a mere man, he needs to be a God, if he was Pope he would always strive for more and he would not care about whom he trampled to get his way-did we not see this with his treatment of Kanon?

And after their worried, hesitant lovemaking Shion gave Saga one last chance to redeem himself. Sitting on the spoiled bed with the sheets crumpled around his waist, the older man quietly contemplated the beautiful boy before him. A lean, smooth chest the colour of caramel and vivid blue locks tumbling down a broad back belied the darkness in his sea-green eyes, the darkness that Shion couldn't bear to see in any Saint of Athena.

"Saga...if you do become Pope, what will you do?"

The sixteen year-old was silent for a time. "I would...first, I would start making preparations for Athena's appearance. She should be born soon, and that will indicate the coming of a new Holy War, so I would continue the training of our Saints for that. I would call Libra Dohko back, and I would continue to train so that I could meet Hades as an equal-and win."

"And who would you take as a companion?"

"Nobody. I need none of them, and as of yet they don't need me. Most of the Gold Saints are too young to appreciate the value of the Pope, so I could not-I _would_ not-sleep with them. It would not be necessary. All they-and I-need is Athena."

Shion sighed inside his head, and placed an aged hand on Saga's smooth shoulder. "Thank you, Gemini Saga. I shall inform you of my decision tomorrow. Have a good night."

And of course it did not go as planned-Saga did not sit there quietly and let Aiolos become Pope over him, oh no. Grand Pope Shion was murdered in a cruel and ignoble fashion on the sacred ground of Star Hill as Saga's evil side took over completely and then, for the first time in Sanctuary's history, a fake Pope was in charge-a fake Pope who was a murderer and a liar and a tormented, tortured madman-and to whom Athena had been entrusted.

Oh dear.

* * *

_Gemini Saga-now Pope Ares, actually, but he could never fool himself-had to be more careful than Shion. The Gold Saints knew that something had changed-a change in cosmos, in hair colour, in voice and in manner-but most were too young to realise the deception for what it was. Mu was sent to Jamir immediately and whilst Aphrodite, Shura and Deathmask were old enough to have suspicions, Saga quenched those with a few mind-wipes here and there, and the only real threat to his position, Aiolos, was dealt with a year after he came to power. _

_By that time Athena had been born again as a pretty pink-haired baby who was in Saga's primary care. One thing led to another and soon enough a knife was in his hands and Saga, he who had been so devoted a few years earlier, was trying to kill his goddess._

_Aiolos' intervention was almost a blessing, as it got rid of Athena and it got rid of the Sagittarius Saint. The matter was dealt with by yelling 'AIOLOS IS A TRAITOR' very loudly and getting Capricorn Shura to finish him off. Shunning his little brother Aiolia also helped, and Saga's dark side took great delight in watching the nine year-old crumple under the weight of his brother's apparent treason. _

_So began thirteen years of deception, insanity and deceit._

* * *

On the big marble table inscribed with the twelve signs of the zodiac and where the Gold Saints occasionally formed the Golden Round, a figure was splayed. They didn't look very comfortable.

Behind them was a larger figure with his hands firmly gripping the figure on the table's hips, thrusting his clothed erection into the other's backside. He was panting softly, and the tabled figure moaned as he was shoved onto the hard, cold surface of the etched slab.

Saga-or Pope Ares, as he still couldn't call himself-leant over the trembling back of Virgo Shaka and gently nibbled the blonde's ear, running a hand over the smooth, pale buttocks of the naked thirteen year-old. Shaka tensed as he felt Saga's hot breath so close to his face and his thin hands clutched at the marble below him.

"Calm yourself, Shaka...I will not hurt you, not tonight..."

Shaka relaxed slightly at these words, and Saga smiled behind his papal mask. He _liked _the blonde-Shaka had been the first Saint he had slept with after assuming the title of Pope, purely because Saga thought it was the safest option. The boy may have been the reincarnation of Buddha, but he didn't open his eyes and that was _good!_

Besides, he was beautiful. On the skinny side, yes, but certainly beautiful and Saga had enjoyed taking his virginity-right up until the part where his evil side went crazy and left Shaka terrified and bleeding on the crumpled silk sheets with a mad Pope sobbing into his hands above him.

And he had tried not to do the same to the other Gold Saints, he really had...it just didn't quite work. Mu was lucky he was holed up in Jamir, or else Saga was sure he would have killed the pink-haired boy half-way through and dumped his body in a compost heap. Milo, to his credit, had been very brave when faced with Saga's evil side and hadn't made a sound, and Camus had cried quietly into a pillow. His tears had turned to ice, and Saga collected each one.

Aphrodite had been apprehensive-he knew that the Pope wasn't the Pope that he'd grown up with-but a quick mind-wipe later and he was as compliant and as open-minded as the cheeriest prostitute. The pretty boy had let Saga do as he pleased, and had even kissed him afterwards. Deathmask had been similar-the Italian had come in expecting a quick in-and-out ritual but when faced with a sadomasochistic psychopath he had grinned and bit back harder than Saga ever could.

All had, of course, been firmly blindfolded. As it was the Pope, no-one dared question his whims and even Shaka now had a blindfold tightly secured around his (permanently closed) eyes, although he was the last Saint in the world liable to disobey the Pope.

Hence the fact that he was underneath Saga now, his cheeks flushed and his thin body trembling with...well, it may have been cold and it probably wasn't anticipation. But Shaka never once rebelled, never once bothered to complain-Saga was the Pope, and the Pope was Justice. If the Pope happened to hurt a few underage boys during sex then that, in Shaka's opinion, was a small price to pay for keeping Justice sound.

Saga traced the outline of Shaka's spine with one long finger and bit down hard on the little blonde's earlobe. Underneath him, the naked boy gritted his teeth but made no sound as Saga continued to bite, moving down from the ear to the pale curve of Shaka's neck and leaving bruises in his wake. His other hand slipped underneath his papal robes and began to undo his trousers, leaving his erection free and breezy.

"Good boy, Shaka, good boy...are you ready to move further?"

Shaka stayed quiet. It didn't matter one bit what he wanted, this was a service to the Pope that he-in a way that Aiolia and Aldebaran were not-was willing to give, and it was for Saga's peace of mind that it occurred. And so when Saga shoved his entire erection into Shaka with no preparation and minimal warning, all the blonde did was gasp slightly and shudder against the cold marble.

The pain would pass soon enough.

The older man groaned softly, his breath warm on Shaka's temple as he began to move inside the tight little body and his hands crawled up Shaka's pale thigh, leaving bloodied scratches on the silky skin until they reached the shining mane of blonde hair, which Saga proceeded to tug on with each forceful thrust. Shaka was slammed against the hard stone each time, and each time he felt his nipples protest quite violently-but once again, it did not matter where his Pope took him. It could be in a bedchamber, on the floor, in the gardens of Virgo Temple (Saga had never dared) or in plain view, as he was doing now-Shaka would never object. His body was a vessel for a god, and right now he wanted to use it to serve another god. Personal comfort was not even considered in his mind.

Saga continued to thrust hard and fast into the blonde, occasionally hitting his prostate and once or twice drawing blood that flowed down Shaka's slim legs and onto the worn stone floor. Behind his blindfold his eyes were screwed shut and above him Saga groaned with pleasure, yanking the blonde's head backwards with particularly forceful tugs.

And as Saga rode out his orgasm inside Shaka's tight heat, both his personalities were in complete concurrence-it was a rare privilege indeed to have such selfless, compliant Saints to take out your anxiety on. The blue-haired man finished, spurting his semen into Shaka and collapsing on top of the smaller body.

"Ah!"

"Oh, Shaka, I am sorry, so sorry, I have hurt you enough and now I squash you too...ah, what sort of Pope am I?" Inside, Saga was fighting the mental battle that always occurred after he made love-whether to apologise and repent for the ferocity of his evil side, or to ignore reason and take the person again. Shaka had been a victim of both.

The fake Pope's strong arms found their way around Shaka's narrow waist as he said this, and the blonde felt obliged to answer.

"You are the only kind we have, Pope Ares. And it does not do to worry about me, not now-"

"No, no, do not speak. And go now, Shura should be along soon and I need to speak with him quite urgently." With a final kiss to Shaka's forehead, the former Gemini Saga had readjusted his trousers and hurried off, leaving Shaka to limp back to Virgo Temple.

To Shaka, all seemed normal.

Capricorn Shura was waiting for Saga in the gloom of the main chamber of the Palace, and he had a glazed look in his normally vivid green eyes. He was another one that had grown up well, and now possessed the best pair of legs in Sanctuary-legs that Saga took full advantage of now that the boy had been suitably mind-wiped into submission.

"Welcome, Shura. I trust you are well?" Saga strode into the room, looking considerably more impressive than he had been a few minutes earlier. And if Shura could see Shaka donning his Cloth through the half-open door Saga had just breezed through...well, there _were_ eighty-eight of them and the Pope was a busy man.

"Very well, Sir. Thank you for inquiring." Shura didn't smile, but allowed himself to be blindfolded and led by a bronzed, lean arm into Saga's bedchambers and onto his knees.

Because sometimes the Spaniard needed reminding that his master was currently the Pope, not Athena-and really, what better way to do it?

Ah, praise Athena for the privileges she gives!

* * *

Leo Aiolia bumped into Virgo Shaka on the steps of Aquarius Temple (apparently he had been returning a book, which Shaka found odd-since when had Camus leant books to the brothers of traitors?) and both boys walked down the many many steps in silence.

It was not purely rudeness-Shaka was not a talkative person and it was hard to strike up a conversation with Aiolia that didn't turn angsty quite quickly, and the Leo Saint didn't really have much to say to someone he _knew_ had just been bending over for the Pope. But they were comrades, neighbours, fellow Gold Saints and brothers-in-arms, so they walked to their temples together.

And in the end it was Shaka who broke the silence.

"Leo Aiolia...would you like to come and have tea with me some time?

Aiolia nearly fell down the steps of Capricorn Temple in astonishment. "What-me? You're asking _me_ to tea? Why?"

Shaka smiled as Aiolia righted himself. "Because it is the correct thing to do. You-"here Shaka drew back his mane of hair to revel the marks Saga had left on his neck-"need to learn to look past these and I need to learn to look past your looks and the rumours of Sanctuary" he finished, pointing to Aiolia's dyed red hair.

Aiolia's eyes were wide in astonishment. "Uh...I can see how both of those things could be quite hard...and whilst I respect what you're trying to do, honestly-I'm happier off far away from the Pope..."

"Just be glad the Pope has enough decorum not to demand that you please him. Do you accept the offer of tea or not?" Shaka's monotone was icy.

"Well, yes, and it's very gracious of you to offer such-"

"Don't expect it again. I aim to both confirm my own suspicions and enrich Aphrodite's little rumour mill, you know." And with that thoroughly welcoming last sentence, Shaka limped off into the sunset with his head held high-until he fell over a rock half-way down the steps of Libra Temple. Left alone in front of the empty Capricorn Temple, Aiolia sighed.

If that was the sort of person that Pope Ares chose as a model Saint, then he was_ very_ glad he was an outcast.

* * *

As time passed and his Saints grew, fake Pope Ares grew in confidence and began to demand that-much as Pope Shion had done-two of his beautiful, powerful Saints pleasure him at the same time. (Whilst blindfolded, obviously.)

The idea had been thought up once upon a dream (a wet one) and as soon as Saga had roused himself from his fitful slumber he had summoned Capricorn Shura and Cancer Deathmask to his side. Both boys would, he figured, be willing to try such an idea....but how to phrase it? I want to fuck both of you senseless simultaneously? Let's have a gang-bang? Who's up for a threesome?

None of them quite worked. And so, when Shura turned up with his hair all wet and looking particularly gorgeous and Deathmask eventually appeared with his hands covered in blood and a dubious smirk upon his face, Saga simply pointed at the bedchamber in a commanding fashion.

Shura and Deathmask stared at him.

Saga pointed again, this time with a little more force.

"What, both of us? Pope Ares, are you sure?" Shura's questioning interrupted the gesturing, and he was backing away slowly into the gloom of the Pope's throne room. Deathmask, however, was wearing an even more depraved smile than usual.

Saga sighed. "Of course I mean both of you! Why would I be pointing if I didn't? I've been feeling particularly frazzled lately and I've decided to try a fun new activity to help me relieve the tension. Any objections, you two?"

The Cancer Saint yawned. "And by 'fun new activity', you mean a threesome?"

"Well,_ I_ thought it would be fun-wait, why are you questioning me? I'm your Pope, take off your Cloths and get into the bedchamber _now_! And Shura, be a man!"

"But I don't want to sleep with Deathmask!"

"Tough!"

And as it happened, the first threesome Saga ever tried out was quite a success. Deathmask managed not to dominate the entire proceedings (even as a fake Pope, Saga could wield significant authority) and Saga himself enjoyed a tasty, tension-relieving shag with two beautiful teenagers, both of whom happened to have amazing legs.

Deathmask was also completely shameless, and Saga mentally signed him up for a future threesome with absolutely everyone. Shura had, admittedly, stumbled back to Capricorn Temple with severe mental scarring and a painful limp-but he would recover. He was seventeen, for Athena's sake-had he been a normal boy he would have wanted to do this with anyone he could find.

For Saga, it was also proof of his now-firm authority as Pope. And he liked that more than any fuck in the world-but to keep his Saints on their shiny little toes he waited a couple of weeks before summoning the next pair into his papal bedchamber.

Scorpio Milo and Virgo Shaka were no strangers to the Pope's silken sheets, and as such Saga had decided that they should be the first of the younger Gold Saints to experience this fun new way of relieving tension/exerting papal authority. They would not object, not two such good Saints-and as both fifteen year-olds knelt in front of him with utter subservience in their demeanours, Saga felt inordinately proud of the system that had produced them.

Stroking Milo's purple curls, he softly explained what he was going to do. "Now, boys-I wish to have an enjoyable experience with both of you, do you see? Go into that side-room and remove your Cloths, and then put on the tunics I've laid out there. Afterwards, go to the bedchamber-but remember, you may take as much time as you need. I intend to make this occurrence pleasurable for you two as well-think of it as a reward for your loyalty and devotion."

The boys nodded and retreated to the side-room. Shakily, Milo removed his Gold Cloth and tried not to think about the hurt this would cause Camus-_if_ he told him about this. Shaka, ever-emotionless, merely shed his Cloth and thought up ways to meditate whilst in the middle of sex. (He had discovered nine so far.)

Belting his little white tunic Milo turned to the other boy, who was clad in a similar way. "Alright, Shaka, I know you know this and I know this but I'm just going to say it again in case we go mad and get amnesia or something."

Shaka nodded and adjusted the skirt of his own tunic. It was, he noticed, really rather short.

Milo continued. "You are my comrade, and I count you as a good friend-and just because Pope Ares wants us to sleep together, this won't change. I like Camus, not you, and I'm hoping this won't cause too much awkwardness between us."

The blonde smiled. "Ah, don't be silly, Milo-why bring feelings into what is only a service? The only feelings we should have here are love for the Pope and love for Athena. Everything else, including our feelings towards each other, is completely null and void."

"Do you love the Pope, then?"

"...In what way?"

"In the way that I like Camus. In the way that he's the best thing you can imagine, the central figure in your life and in the _he makes you happy _way. You know, beyond normal devotion."

"I would not know how to answer that question, nor if it is even appropriate to be asking such things at a time like this, Scorpio Milo. Now come, Pope Ares is waiting."

"One more thing. Hug?"

"_What?"_

"A _hug_ to show that this will change nothing between us!"

Disregarding Shaka's obviously negative answer, Milo clasped the thinner boy in his tanned arms. Shaka tentatively hugged back, unused to platonic physical contact. The hug was awkward but deep, and it lasted for longer than both expected it to.

Unsurprisingly, Shaka wriggled out of Milo's arms first. "Come, Pope Ares is waiting for us and I do not want to make him irate, not before this-"

"I know, I know."

Both boys walked out of the side-room and into the Pope's bedchamber, where they weren't seen for a good few hours. And when they eventually stumbled back out, their tunics ripped, their hair mussed and both sporting impressive lovebites (along with hard-to-conceal limps), they couldn't even meet each other's eyes.

Milo looked the most shamefaced. He had been firmly sandwiched between Saga and Shaka, and now had the dubious honour of having fucked the one person in Sanctuary that Camus was physically jealous of (something about hair). Needless to say, his already tentative (and completely un-physical) relationship with the French boy was a little more jeopardised than usual.

Shaka was similarly embarrassed. He had just been fucked twice over, and it was the first time he'd slept with someone other than Pope Ares. Whilst he didn't have a relationship like Milo's and Camus' with anyone else in Sanctuary, he still felt mortified-a fellow Gold Saint had seen him in his weakest, most unholy moments, and he just wanted to meditate the whole thing away.

And Saga smiled at their retreating forms, pleased that the two teenagers had overcome their embarrassment and had managed to enjoy themselves in the heat of the moment. Once more, a threesome had been an apparent success and Saga began making plans to reward Milo and Shaka in a slightly more conventional way-a hamper on their birthdays, perhaps? Wasn't Shaka a vegetarian, though? Perhaps a nice book or two....

Nonetheless, there came an end to Saga's glorious threesomes-and it was almost completely due to Pisces Aphrodite. Saga had used him in threesomes before, most often with Deathmask, and this time had decided to pair up the nineteen year-old with a young Silver Saint called Lacerta Misty.

Lacerta Misty was beautiful, with big blue eyes and fluffy blonde hair-he rather reminded Saga of Aphrodite, and it was for this reason that he had chosen to pair those two Saints together. But Misty was also only twelve years old and completely starstruck at the thought of being allowed to share Aphrodite's airspace.

He had crept into the Pope's main chamber and knelt in front of him (as all good Saints did), and had almost fainted when informed that Pope Ares wished to allow him to bed both himself _and_ a Gold Saint.

"But-but Pope Ares, I'm a Silver Saint and Pisces Aphrodite is a Gold Saint! It is inconceivable that he will agree to this or that the rest of Sanctuary will not view this as an elevation above my station..."

Saga had simply chuckled. "Hush, Misty-it will be perfectly alright. Aphrodite is a good Saint; he knows that he must obey the Pope in these matters. And besides-"Saga leaned forwards, stroking Misty's smooth, flushed cheek-"you are very pretty and he is a connoisseur of beauty. I doubt he will object to sleeping with you."

Unfortunately, it hadn't worked out quite like that. Pisces Aphrodite had strolled in with some of his blue locks still in curlers-and then had taken one look at little Lacerta Misty trembling behind Pope Ares and had strolled back out.

"Pisces Aphrodite, get back in here _now_!"

From the doorway, Saga distinctly heard a "'No!"

"Pisces Aphrodite, I _can_ and _will_ make you get back in here. Whether you do it willingly and set a good example for those younger than you or whether you want me to humiliate you in public is your decision."

The annoyed stomp of armoured feet was heard, and Aphrodite burst back into the Pope's main chamber, his beautiful features twisted into a mask of fury.

"'_Publicly humiliate me?_' Pope Ares, can you not see that you are doing that already? I will not sleep with that little brat you've got there; I am a Gold Saint of Athena! Making me give that child that which is only reserved for those of my status and higher is the most humiliating thing you could possibly do!"

Saga looked disdainful. "And your sexual attentions are these things that are only reserved for myself and Cancer Deathmask, are they?"

Aphrodite was almost shrieking in rage. "_Yes!_ You are my Pope-I am honour and duty-bound to respect you, Cancer Deathmask I consider my equal-but _this-_"he strode over to Misty and picked the younger boy up by the hair-"this is an insult to everything I believe in! I will not lower myself to such a station! Pope Ares, sleeping with Silver Saints is your job, not mine."

"Pisces Aphrodite, I will not tolerate such insolence! You will do as I bid you and you will do it in a manner that befits a Saint of Athena! If I tell you to sleep with a Silver Saint, you will sleep with a Silver Saint-_no questions asked."_

A Clothed foot was firmly stamped, and Saga gripped the arms of his throne tightly. Misty (who was still being clutched by the hair) protested slightly and was unceremoniously hurled across the cold stone floor. Aphrodite fumed quietly before replying in his most scathing tones, his eyebrows knotted and his blue hair practically curling in disdain.

"Pope Ares, do you still not understand? Your Saints do not want to share you! I do not want to share you with a fellow Gold Saint, and I most certainly do not want to expose myself in your presence if I must share you with a silly Silver Saint!" Aphrodite promptly got on his knees before Saga, taking the Pope's hands in his and gazing at him with earnest devotion.

"We are your Saints, yes, and we follow you-but when we are not happy, you _must _listen! All we have is you, Pope Ares, and during the times we are given together we bare our souls, our human frailties and inner turmoil-things that only our Pope is good enough to see-to you! If another is to intrude on that time for purely personal pleasure...well, the Saint is left unhappy and lost. We need _you_, Pope Ares, not sex with each other. It runs far deeper than that!"

Saga looked into Aphrodite's earnest blue eyes, wide and full of devotion-and Pope Shion's words came back to him.

"_It is the duty of the Grand Pope of Sanctuary to rule and never, ever to serve...."_

The older man sighed and stroked Aphrodite's gauntleted hands. "Understood, Aphrodite-understood. I see now that I forgot the most important thing when dealing with my Saints...and if it means that much to you all, I promise that I shall spend time with you individually. You_ do_ deserve it."

"Ah, thank you, Pope Ares! This means a lot to me!" And with a dazzling smile and a flounce of bright blue curls, Pisces Aphrodite had swept out of the Pope's throne room and into the arms of Cancer Deathmask, to whom he mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'easy as hell to bullshit out of _that_ one'.

Saga remained on his throne, deep in thought. Surely if he had judged the mood of his most precious Saints so terribly wrong then he truly _was_ not meant to be Pope....in the corner of the room, Lacerta Misty groaned and picked himself up out of the rubble of a previously rather nice column. The Pope looked at him thoughtfully for a minute before sighing and fiddling with his papal necklace.

"Say, Misty....fancy relieving some inner turmoil?"

* * *

_And so ended Saga's threesomes, although he would continue to be nice and active with his Saints until his rather tragic death three years later at the hands of himself-and made all the more tragic by the fact that his oh-so-devoted Gold Saints turned on him, Aries Mu and those upstart Bronzies exposing him for what he really was, a crazy fraud. _

_And Saga wondered at the time-how had they done it? How much convincing did it take to get some of his most loyal Gold Saints to betray their Pope, whom they had known and loved all their lives-just for Athena? _

_Ah, for Athena. For their true Goddess, their teacher, sister, mother and lover rolled into one and whose cosmos truly gave out the love her Saints deserved. One smile, one nudge in the right direction and Saga realised he'd betray everything he'd ever known too, just to get a chance to feel her love. _

_A true, honest, eternal love....Saga wondered what it must be like to have that, because he sure as hell had never been able to give it freely._

* * *

Years later, after all the battles were fought and all the Saints that had been slain were resurrected-and then killed and then resurrected again-a new Pope sat on the throne of Sanctuary.

This Pope was young and sat almost uncomfortably on the seat, his robes flowing around his body and his helmet obscuring his bright green eyes. Long pink hair ran down his back and the former Aries Mu wiggled slightly, trying to get more comfortable on the worn plum cushions.

He still didn't feel like he belonged-but as soon as the fighting against Zeus was over and everyone was safe and sound, Dohko had grabbed Shion and had told him in no uncertain terms that he was never sharing him with anyone _ever_ _again_ and that he had waited two hundred years, he couldn't wait a minute more! The pair had dashed off to Mount Rozan and had not been seen since.

So they couldn't be Pope after all, and Saga had flat-out refused when he had been offered his old job, stating several good reasons why he was a bad choice-the lust for power, the insanity, the fact that he tried to kill Athena, the disrespectful treatment of his Saints...

He had refused to listen to the pleas of his peers and had ignored them when they said he had redeemed himself twice over. In his mind, there was no punishment vile enough for his sins. And as Deathmask and Aphrodite were never really contenders, Aldebaran had set aside the rest of his life for teaching the next generation of Saints all about the terrible glory of a Holy War, Aiolia and Aiolos just wanted to spend time together, Shura had taken up painting and would now _only_ wear a painter's smock, Camus and Milo were finally a fully-functioning (albeit quite high-drama) couple and Shaka had firmly said that he was as bad as Saga when it came to serving others-it was not in his nature, and he now wanted to reach Nirvana before his twenty-second birthday.

Kanon had been in the running, but in the end the Gold Saints had decided that Mu was the only one of them capable of hoisting the reins of Sanctuary back into proper working order. And so the calm, enigmatic and determinedly pink-haired Aries Saint was plonked firmly upon the throne of the Grand Pope of Sanctuary.

It didn't feel right. But, he supposed, being Pope was a lesson learnt in time-right now what mattered was the rebuilding of over half of the vast Sanctuary complex and the repairing of many of the eighty-eight Cloths. It would be done, and he would do it. It was his duty as a Saint of Athena!

Just as he resolved to end hunger and achieve world peace, a figure stepped out of the darkness.

"Greetings, Pope...Mu? Pope Aries? What in Athena's name do we call you now?"

Mu relaxed slightly. "Ah, Shaka, call me Mu...I am only Pope to those who have not seen me eat worms."

Shaka's nose wrinkled slightly at the memory. "You know, I had forgotten about that. How are you holding up as Pope of us all?"

The pink-haired man sighed and removed his stuffy old helmet, scrunching his dots up in anxiety. "It is a learning curve, I must say....I am doing as best I can, and I am thankful that I have such an excellent selection of Gold Saints to support me in my papal endeavours."

"You make us sound like chocolates. But remember, we all fought a Holy War and we are all here to restore Sanctuary to her former glory-you are not alone in your 'papal endeavours'." The blonde man smiled slightly at this and took the Pope's helmet in his gold-covered hands, gazing at it fondly.

"But I do wonder one thing, Mu...."

Sanctuary's newest Pope grunted slightly. "Hrmmm, Shaka?"

The Virgo Saint continued, twisting the red-winged helmet around in his thin hands. "I wonder...who will you be taking as a companion initially? After all, couples are forming and many Saints are quite preoccupied now..."

Mu's eyes went wide. He himself had never slept with a Pope (something about being in Jamir) and had little knowledge of the ancient custom, having only ever been fondled by Pope Shion as a young child. Truth be told, Aries Mu was still a virgin.

Sitting up straight and attempting to _not_ kill himself with his papal robes, Mu sat up and tried to look competent. Trust Virgo Shaka, Saga's primary whore, to bring this subject up.

"Well, I'm not sure that I'm going to do that at all, actually. I was thinking more along the lines of letting Athena's Saints having a good long time to recover from the wars and, if they so wished, forming their own couples with no influence from the Pope. I've been analysing the custom and decided that with Athena here amongst us, we don't need to keep Saints loyal to Sanctuary in the same way and as such I was thinking of abolishing it..."

Mu tailed off, wary of Shaka's burning (and completely blind) gaze. "What? Is that a completely unacceptable idea? You said it yourself; new couples are forming-instead of keeping all the Saints to myself, I'm going to let everyone be happy with each other!"

The blonde didn't open his eyes, but his demeanour changed from one of quiet exasperation to even more silent respect. "No, Mu, I do not think that idea is unacceptable. In fact, I rather like it...there is so much freedom involved, I would never have imagined a Pope implementing something like this." Shaka knelt down in front of the new Pope, taking Mu's hands in his. "It is good of you to give your Saints such a chance!"

Said Pope flushed, embarrassed. "No, no, I am merely doing what I feel is right for us all. If I keep you all locked up in here with me, who's going to rebuild Sanctuary?"

At this Shaka smiled, and Mu was glad to see such a thing. "But-"he continued-"I may have made the single biggest mistake of my papal career-after all, with you and Saga being all loved up in Virgo Temple now that Kanon's the Gold Saint of Gemini, I may have just handed over two of my finest warriors to the wilder shores of love!" He winked conspiratorially at Shaka, who blushed and looked away. "How is that going, by the way?"

Shaka's cheeks were pink as he answered. "It is going...well. We've got a_ lot_ of stuff to work out, but he loves me and I-I do love him, more than I ever thought I could love anyone-so we are making progress. And we are not 'loved up', ignore Aphrodite."

"Lies, I know how much time you two spend drinking tea. It would be fine if I was occasionally invited, you know..." With this, Mu raised himself out of the papal throne and into a position that vaguely resembled _standing_. He hoisted Shaka up with him, feeling uncomfortable with his oldest friend kneeling at his feet.

"Alright, you can go spread the news-Grand Pope Mu abolishes age-old custom and wants you to get back to work whilst he has a nap!"

Shaka smiled and nodded, his feet clacking as he retreated back into the darkness of the main chamber. Mu waved after him, unable to resist one final catcall.

"Say hello to Saga for me! Tell him I'm coming for tea!"

In the darkness, Mu was sure that he saw the holy Virgo Shaka give him, the new Pope of Sanctuary, something that looked suspiciously like the finger. Nah, must be his imagination.

Speaking of imagination, he still had some time before Shaka spread the word about the abolishment of the Pope's Privileges, and he _was_ still a virgin...

"Kiki?"

The red-headed boy was at his side in a flash, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of being able to go and annoy someone. "Yes, Master Mu? Who are we exerting your papal authority on today?"

Mu smiled. "Not really exerting, Kiki, we're more subtly influencing. I want you to go and find Dragon Shiryu, and if he is free I want you to tell him to come directly to me, understand? And if he is not free...well, tell him he's now free!"

Kiki nodded and teleported away, leaving Mu alone in the darkness on his throne. A Pope must serve and never rule-but really, what sort of Pope abolishes a rule without having thorough knowledge of the custom itself first?

Ah, praise to Athena for the privileges she gives!

* * *

**Did you enjoy my butchering of the canon?**

**That was nineteen pages of pure soul-rot. I'm going straight to Hell for writing this, I can feel it. But at least it ended on a vaguely high note! **

**Um....I'm trying to think of all the apologies I need to make, but all I can think of is that I still can't spell 'privileges' correctly, even after all that. **

**Ah! Sorry for ignoring Aiolia and Aldebaran-but Aldebaran has his own oneshot all typed up, he is fine. Aiolia, however, is getting ignored in favour of Milo and Aiolos and I've no idea why. **

**Dohko was meant to be the last Pope, but Mu just snuck in there (partly because I have recently fallen in lust with Mu/Shiryu) and got the job. **

**There's a lot of blind devotion in this, and the working title was 'Shion's Harem', an idea given to me by my little sister-I simply expanded it into this vat of moral turpentine. **

**Written whilst listening to 'Jesus Christ Superstar'. If that's not a mindfuck, I don't know what is!**

**-The Love Bug**


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